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CLARENTINE; 


? 


BY  MISS  BURNEY, 

AUTHOR  OF 
.TRAITS   OF  NATURE,  GERALDINE  FAUCONBERG,  ETC. 


IN  T^O  VOLUMES. 
VOL,   II. 


PHILADELPHIA: 

Fvhlishtd  hy  M,  Carey  Sf  8on^  J^Tv,  126,  Chesmt  street, 
1818. 


CLARENTINE. 


CONTINUATION  OF  BOOK  III. 


CHAPTER  VI. 

THREE  days  had  now  elapsed  since  the  depar- 
ture of  Mr.  Lenham,  and  Clarentine,  though  in  that 
time  she  had  hourly  gained  ground  in  the  good 
opinion  of  Mrs.  Barclay,  began  most  impatiently  to 
long  fo-  his  return,  when  the  following  letter  from 
him  was  brought  to  her : 

MISS  DELMINGTON. 

Somerset-Hall,  July  26- 
"  -vly  dear  young  Friend, 

"  TLe  intelligence  I  have  to  announce  to  you,  it 
was  my  wish  to  communicate  in  person,  but  the  pro- 
bable delays  that  will  protract  my  return  are  so  nu- 
merous, that  I  cannot  any  longer — possessing  a  se- 
cret which  I  think  it  will  give  your  benevolent  heart 
pleasure  to  be  informed  of— permit  myself  to  keep 
you  in  ignorance. 


"  Mr,  Somerset's  will,  you  have  already  heard, 
has  been  inspected.  It  was  drawn  up,  as  is  evident 
by  the  date,  three  years  since,  and  excepting  a  few 
trifling  legacies  to  servants,  contains  nothing  that 
does  not  relate  to  his  son.  In  a  codicil,  however, 
which  was  added  to  it  so  lately  as  within  four  days 
of  his  decease,  is  a  declaration  stating,  that — "  In 
consideration  of  Clarentine  Delmington's  near  affinity 
to  his  late  wife,  the  testator  gives  and  bequeaths,  to 
the  said  Clarentine  Delmington,  the  sum  of  5000/. 
the  capital  of  which  is  to  be  made  over  to  her  with- 
out limit  or  restriction,  on  the  day  she  comes  of  age  ; 
and  in  the  interval  between  that  period  and  the  pre- 
sent, to  be  consigned  to  the  management  and  trust  of 
the  Rev.  Francis  Lenham  ;  whom,  in  conjunction 
with  his  son,  William  Somerset,  he  appoints  her 
guardian  and  trustee.  Moreover,  that  from  the  day 
of  his  decease,  the  annual  interest  of  the  same  5000/. 
amounting  to  250/.  shall  be  duly  paid  during  her  mi- 
nority to  the  said  Clarentine  Delmington,  out  of  his 
personal  property  in  the  five  per  cents." 

"  Now  my  excellent  young  friend,  suffer  me  to 
congratulate  you  upon  this  just  and  equitable  dona- 
tion. To  a  mind  disinterested  and  liberal  as  I  was 
long  since  taught  to  believe  yours,  the  value  of  such 
an  acquisition,  as  it  relates  only  to  yourself,  will  be 
small,  in  comparison  to  that  it  must  derive  as  relat- 
ing to  those  it  may  enable  you  to  serve  ;  since  now, 
although  not  affluent,  you  are  independent ;  and  with 
sufficient  to  supply  all  your  own  reasonable  wishes, 
have  something  to  spare  towards  the  wants — the 
equally  reasonable,  and  far  more  pressing,  wants  of 
others.  How  many  there  are  who  might  envy  you 
this  power !  and  how  many  more,  I  fear,  who  might 
envy  the  disposition  which  I  doubt  not  will  lead  you 
thus  to  exercise  it ! 

"  But  permit  me  before  I  conclude,  in  justice  to 
our  absent  friend,  your  guardian  now,  and  always 


your  most  zealous  well-wisher,  to  acquaint  you  with 
an  instance  of  his  early  affection  which,  perhaps,  may 
not  have  come  to  your  knowledge. 

"  There  was  a  period  when  he  had  reason  to  ap- 
prehend— and  indeed,  till  lately,  who  had  not  ? — you 
might  at  his  father's  decease  be  less  favourably  re- 
membered. Poor  at  that  time  himself,  at  least,  com- 
paratively so  ;  extremely  young,  and  totally  depen- 
dent, he  had  no  means  of  securing  you  any  immediate 
provision  :  but  his  generous  heart  furnishing  him 
with  expedients  for  the  future,  although  powerless  at 
the  moment,  he  formed  the  noble  design  of  binding 
himself  by  the  most  irrevocable  engagement,  to  en- 
sure to  you,  on  his  coming  into  possession  of  his  for- 
tune, a  fixed  and  certain  competency.  A  promise  to 
this  effect  I  accordingly  drew  up  for  him,  put  into 
his  hands  to  sign,  and  afterwards,  at  his  own  request, 
subscribed  myself. 

"  Upon  the  legality  of  such  a  deed,  considered  as 
the  act  of  a  minor,  there  was  not,  I  acknowledge, 
much  stress  to  be  laid  :  upon  the  scrupulous  con- 
scientiousness, however,  with  which  he  meant  to  ra- 
tify it,  the  firmest  dependence,  I  am  persuaded,  v/as 
to  be  placed  ;  and  therefore  complying  with  the  ear- 
nest solicitations  of  the  youthful  projector,  1  sent  it 
to  Sir  James  Delmington,  enclosed  in  a  letter  which 
stated  his  motives  for  consigning  it  to  his  care,  and 
the  apprehensions  that  had  urged  him  to  draw  it  up. 

'*  What  became  of  this  paper  I  know  not,  or 
whether  it  was  ever  mentioned  to  you  5s*  being 
thought  worthy  of  attention.  At  all  events,  it  seem- 
ed incumbent  upon  me  to  revive  the  memory  of  a 
circumstance  which  does  so  much  honour  to  the  heart 
of  Somerset — and  which,  without  wounding  your 
feelings,  must  so  deservedly  excite  your  gratitude 
and  sensibility. 

"  Farewel,  my  amiable  young  ward.  I  am  impa- 
tient to  return  to  you,  yet,  at  present,  totally  unable 
A2 

306321 


to  decide  when  that  will  be.  Should  you,  therefore, 
have  any  motive  for  wishing  to  write  to  me  before 
the  end  of  the  ensuing  week,  direct  to  me  here,  and 
be  assured  of  the  punctuality  and  readiness  with 
which  I  shall  at  all  times  be  anxious  to  execute  your 
commands. 

"  I  remain, 

''  My  dear  Miss  Delmington, 
"  With  the  most  affectionate  regard, 
"  Your  obedient, 

"  And  devoted  humble  servant, 

F.  Lenham." 

Clarentine  had  rapidly  perused  this  letter  three 
several  times  before  she  could  persuade  herself  that 
what  she  read  was  real.  Thus  suddenly,  thus  unex- 
pectedly to  find  herself  in  the  absolute  possession  of 
a  fortune  which  to  her  moderate  and  rational  mind 
appeared  so  ample,  seemed  too  like  enchantment  to 
be  believed  ! — How  was  she  ever  to  spend  it  ?  How 
create  to  herself  new  wants  sufficient  to  render  it  of 
any  use  ?  The  point  was  not  easy  to  decide,  since 
absurd  as  it  would  hitherto  have  appeared  to  her,  for 
one  instant  to  have  indulged  the  improbable  idea  of 
ever  becoming  the  uncontrouled  mistress  of  such  an 
income,  she  had  not  one  favourite  plan  to  advert  to, 
or  one  long  cherished  scheme,  however  visionary  it 
might  before  have  seemed,  which  now  she  wished  to 
realise. 

"  This'then  being  the  case,"  cried  she,  smiling  at 
the  perplexed,  and  even  risible  deliberation  in  which 
she  had  been  engaged,  "  I  must  disclaim  all  title  to 
the  admiration  which  is  the  usual  reward  of  genero- 
sity^ and  learn  to  be  content  with  the  more  humble 
commendation  that  follows  justice.  In  disposing  of 
my  super-abundance  towards  the  relief  of  those  less 
bounteously  provided  for,  I  make  no  sacrifice,  can 
boast  no  merit,  and  renounce  no  gratification.     In 


reality  I  want  nothing,  at  least  nothing  which  in  my 
present  circumstances  a  third  part  of  the  annual  sti- 
pend 1  am  to  receive  will  not  abundantly  supply. 
Beyond  that,  all  which  I  might  dissipate  would  be 
unnecessary  and  almost  criminal.  I  have  no  fashiona- 
ble connexions  j  no  expensive  pursuits,  no  extrava- 
gant habits  :  in  what  then  without  torturing  my  brain 
to  invent  new  modes  of  prodigality,  in  what  could  I 
(who  have  so  long  been  inured  to  frugality  and  re- 
tirement) spend  an  income,  which  to  me  appears  so 
boundless  and  inexhaustible  ?" 

The  result  of  these  philosophical,  but  untutored 
reflections  was,  that,  without  communicating  her  pur- 
pose to  any  one,  except  Mr.  Lenham,  whom  she 
thought  it  her  duty  upon  all  occasions  to  consult,  she 
determined  immediately  to  take  upon  herself  the  dis- 
charge of  the  full  sum  Lady  Delmington  now  paid 
for  her  board  and  lodging  ;  and  then,  dividing  the 
residue  of  her  whole  year's  allowance  into  two  equal 
portions,  to  appropriate  the  one,  at  least  during  her 
present  exigencies,  to  the  use  of  Madame  d'Arzele  ; 
and  to  retain  the  other,  still  more  than  sufficient  to 
gratify  every  wish  she  could  form,  for  her  own  ex- 
penditure. 

Having  decided  upon  a  plan,  which  thus  effectu- 
ally relieved  her  from  the  troublesome  embarras  des 
richesses  in  which  she  had  so  sincerely  dreaded  to  be 
involved,  Clarentine,  with  a  mind  lightened  of  all  its 
new  cares,  and  a  countenance  more  than  usually  ani- 
mated and  glowing,  descended  rather  before  the  ac- 
customed hour  at  which  the  family  was  wont  to  as- 
semble to  tea,  and  joined  Mrs.  Barclay  and  her 
daughter  in  the  garden. 

The  vivacity  that  sparkled  in  her  eyes,  and  the  un- 
restrained gaiety  with  which  she  accosted  them,  ex- 
cited Miss  Barclay's  immediate  attention  ;  and  after 
staring  in  her  face  some  time  with  great  curiosity, 
she  blmitly  exclaimed — 


8 

"  Why,  in  the  name  of  wonder,  what's  come  to 
you  this  evening?  I  never  saw  you  look  so  lively  and 
merr}'  before.     Have  you  had  any  good  news  ?" 

"  Yes,"  replied  Clarentine  smiling — "  I  have  had 
very  good  news." 

"  I  am  glad  to  hear  it,"  cried  Mrs.  Barclay,  "  I 
hope  you  will  tell  us  what  it  is." 

To  this,  Clarentine  not  foreseeing  the  strange  con- 
struction that  might  be  put  upon  the  uncommon 
cheerfulness  she  had  betrayed,  and  naturally  too  open 
and  undisguised  to  have  any  predilection  for  unne- 
cessary mysteries  and  concealments,  readily  consented, 
and  in  as  few  words  as  possible,  frankly  recapitulated 
the  contents  of  Mr.  Lenham's  letter.  When  she  had 
concluded — 

"  Upon  my  word,"  cried  Miss  Barclay  drily — 
"'  I  don't  so  much  wonder  at  your  sprightliness  now  ! 
You  have  good  substantial  reasons  for  it ;  and  yet,  I 
don't  know  how  it  is,  but  I  should  have  been  tempted 
to  imagine  a  young  lady  like  you,  whose  refinement 
and  disinterestedness  has  been  so  much  cried  up, 
would  have  shewn  less  rapture  upon  such  a  xvorldly 
0€ca6'ion/  I  am  glad,  however,  to  find  there's  not  that 
difference  between  us  I  thought  there  was  ;  for  to 
speak  the  truth,  this  is  exactly  the  way  I  should  have 
received  such  intelligence  myself." 

"  Ay,  to  be  sure  ;"  cried  her  mother,  intending  to 
espouse  Clarentine's  cause,  "  You  don't  suppose 
Miss  Clary  has  not  spirit  enough  to  be  pleased  as 
much  as  other  people  at  such  a  lucky  Godsend!  For 
my  part,  I  give  her  joy  on't  with  all  my  soul ;  and 
heartily  wish  she  could  do  the  same  by  me  !" 

A  cordial  burst  of  self-applause  followed  this  witty 
speech  ;  after  which,  Clarentine  not  choosing  to  en- 
ter upon  her  own  vindication,  very  little  more  was 
said  that  related  to  the  subject,  and  they  all  walked 
in  to  tea. 


CHAPTER  VII. 

CLARENTINE,  assured  of  being  less  unfavoura- 
bly interpreted  by  her  friends  at  Delmington  than 
she  had  been  by  Mrs.  and  Miss  Barclay,  wrote  the 
next  morning,  a  detail  of  the  unexpected  communi- 
cation she  had  received  from  Mr.  Lenham,  and  en- 
closed an  extract  from  his  own  letter,  as  a  confirma- 
tion that  seemed  indispensably  requisite  of  the  won- 
derful and  scarce  credible  tale  she  asserted. 

To  this  letter,  a  very  few  days  brought  her  an  an- 
swer, abounding  in  congratulations  the  most  affec- 
tionate and  cordial,  not  only  from  every  individual  of 
the  family,  but  from  Lady  Julia,  and  her  excellent 
father  also.  As  for  the  warm-hearted  Sophia,  she 
seemed  quite  wild  with  joy — "  only,"  as  she  confess- 
ed herself — "  the  idea  of  Clarentine's  being  doomed 
to  live  with  such  people  as  the  Barclays  disturbed 
her  beyond  measure." 

"  I  cannot  bear  your  odious  Miss  Lucy,"  she  ad- 
ded— "  and  can  hardly  persuade  myself  even  to  think 
with  Christian  charity  of  her  mama.  You  speak 
very  cautiously  about  them — yet  I  can  plainly  per- 
ceive they  are  the  most  contracted,  narrow  minded, 
vulgar  animals  that  ever  were  created  !  How  is  it 
possible  such  a  polished  amiable  man  as  Mr.  Lenham, 
can  endure  such  creatures  in  his  house  ? — Quit  them, 
for  shame  !  and  come  and  live  with  your  charming 
Madame  d'Arzele  again.  Indeed,  indeed  these  peo- 
ple are  not  fit  society  for  my  Clarentine. 

"  As  for  Mr.  Eltham,  who  you  tell  me  has  already 
introduced  himself  at  your  house,  I  suspect  he  will 
have  some  very  entertaining  dialogues  with  Miss 
Lucy  !  She  promises  fair  to  become  an  admirable 
butt  for  him.  Pray  send  me  a  minute  account  of  his 
behaviour  to  her ;  do  all  you  can  to  persuade  her  to 
fall  in  love  with  him  ;  and  then,  if  you  desire  effec- 


10 

tually  to  get  rid  of  him,  betray  her  to  mama,  and 
counsel  the  good  lady  to  prohibit  his  visits  !  You 
will  laugh  at  this  advice  perhaps,  but  I  can  assure 
you,  I  should  follow  it  myself  very  exactly,  in  the 
same  circumstances. 

"  But  apropos — I  scarcely  know  de  quol  though, 
but  that  is  no  matter  ;  let  me  inform  you  of  that  dear, 
delightful  Lord  Welwyn's  enchanting  plan  for  his 
daughter  next  spring.  He  means  to  take  her  to  town 
for  three  months,  in  order  to  have  her  presented,  and 
likewise  in  order  to  inure  her  a  little  to  the  bustle  ard 
confusion  of  the  great  world,  previous  to  her  mar- 
riage.  During  the  first  month  or  six  weeks  of  their 
residence  in  London,  Harriet,  en  droit  d'^ainesse^  is 
invited  to  be  with  them  ;  after  which  my  turn  is  to 
arrive,  and  I  am  to  join  their  party  till  their  return  to 
this  place  in  May.  Lady  Julia's  pretty  mouth  dim- 
ples at  this  prospect,  when  talking  of  it  with  me  ;  but 
at  other  times,  if  she  sits  and  thinks  of  it  alone,  her 
timid  heart  sinks  with  terror  at  the  idea  of  a  scene  so 
new,  an  introduction  so  formidable,  and  a  manner  of 
living  so  busy  and  so  perturbed.  Not  so  your  enrap- 
tured Sophia.  Having  no  presentations  to  fear  (thanks 
to  my  obscurity,  and  thanks  also  to  the  rural  style  of 
life  I  seem  destined  to  lead)  all  I  look  forward  to  is 
amusement,  and  all  I  anticipate  is  pleasure.  Here^ 
these  are  things  I  never  panted  to  obtain,  because  I 
very  well  knew  they  were  not  to  he  obtained ;  but 
there^  as  both  are  accessible,  I  am  fully  determined 
both  shall  be  enjoyed  !  And  so,  farewel  my  beloved 
Clarentine  farewel  till  next    April." 

Thus  concluded  this  gay  and  characteristic  letter. 
It  put  Clarentine  into  spirits  for  the  day,  and  inspired 
her  with  so  much  joy  on  account  of  the  happy  pros- 
pect it  held  out  for  the  spring,  that  her  delight  upon 
the  occasion  was  scarcely  inferior  to  that  of  Sophia 
herself. 

After  an  absence  of  near  three  weeks,  Mr.  Len- 


11 

liain  at  length  returned.  Clarentine  welconjed  him 
on  his  arrival  with  the  truest  satisfaction  ;  and  im- 
patient to  make  known  to  him,  and  to  obtain  his 
sanction  of  her  projected  designs,  seized  the  first  op- 
portunity, when  they  were  by  themselves,  of  speak- 
ing to  him  upon  the  subject. 

To  her  intended  donation  annually  to  Madame 
d'Arzele,  the  nearness  and  dearness  of  that  lady's 
relationship  to  her,  and  the  distressed  state  of  her 
actual  circumstances,  forbade  his  making  any  oppo- 
sition ;  on  the  contrary,  he  applauded  her  purpose 
with  warmth,  and  assured  her  he  entertained  not  the 
least  doubt  of  its  meeting  with  the  readiest  concur- 
rence from  Captain  Somerset. 

With  regard,  however,  to  her  payment  of  himself, 
during  her  residence  at  his  house,  he  declined  saying 
any  thing,  leaving  her  to  settle  the  matter  in  what- 
ever way  she  chose  with  Lady  Delmington  herself. 

Thus  authorised,  Clarentine  lost  no  time  in  farther 
consideration,  but  arming  herself  with  courage  for 
the  arduous  undertaking,  immediately  retired  to  her 
own  room  for  the  purpose  of  writing  to  Madame 
d'Arzele. 

Her  letter,  though  short,  was  at  once  persuasive, 
earnest,  and  affectionate  ;  every  motive  she  could  urge 
in  favour  of  her  proposal  was  strongly  dwelt  upon, 
and  forcibly  pointed  out.  Eloquent,  yet  timid  ;  ani- 
mated, yet  respectful,  by  turns  she  reasoned,  and  she 
sued,  till  argument  itself  was  exhausted,  and  suppli- 
cation could  reach  no  further. 

Enclosed  in  this  letter,  was  a  bill  for  25/.  deducted 
from  the  first  quarterly  payment  she  had  received 
from  Mr.  Lenham  ;  an  equal  sum  remained  for  her 
own  use  ;  and  the  rest  she  determined  to  lay  apart 
towards  the  discharge  of  the  yearly  pension  Lady 
Delmington  had  agreed  to  pay  for  her. 

Her  next  business  was,  to  inform  that  lady  herself 
of  her  decision.     This,  though  by  no  jneans  so  diffi- 


12 

cult  a  task  as  the  former,  was  one,  however,  that 
still  required  the  utmost  delicacy  and  circumspection. 
Proudly,  or  ungraciously,  after  all  the  obligations 
she  had  received,  to  have  rejected  any  further  ser- 
vices the  instant  her  dependence  was  at  an  end,  would 
have  evinced  a  degree  of  selfishness  and  ingratitude, 
of  which  Clarentine  could  not  bear  to  be  thought  ca- 
pable. Her  letter,  therefore,  though  plain  and  can- 
did, was  more  humble  and  more  diffident  than  any 
she  had  ever  written  before. 

By  return  of  post  she  received  the  two  answers 
she  so  ardently  desired. 

The  first  she  opened,  that  of  Madame  d'Arzele, 
affected  her  so  deeply  before  she  had  proceeded  half 
through  it,  that  she  had  scarce  power  to  read  to  its 
conclusion.  The  impassioned  gratitude  and  sensibi- 
lity it  expressed  ;  the  kind  and  flattering  acceptation 
it  contained  ;  and  above  all,  the  tender  acknowledg- 
ments with  which  it  abounded  on  behalf  of  the  help- 
less babes,  to  whom  such  a  grant  afforded  certain 
maintenance  and  support,  delighted  at  once,  and  dis- 
tressed the  feeling  Clarentine  almost  to  an  equal  de- 
gree !  More  than  ever,  however,  did  she  congratulate 
herself  upon  the  dispensation  she  had  made,  and 
more  than  ever  prize  the  power  she  had  acquired. 

Lady  Delmington  wrote  with  less  enthusiasm,  it 
will  be  believed,  but  scarcely  with  less  affection.  She 
agreed  to  her  niece's  proposal  as  to  a  thing  it  would 
.be  indelicate  to  oppose  ;  yet  at  the  same  time  rallied 
her  with  a  considerable  degree  of  archness  upon  the 
promptitude  with  which  she  had  thought  it  necessary 
to  announce  her  determination,  and  good  humouredly 
cautioned  her  against  adding  one  more,  to  the  too- 
ample  list  that  already  existed  oVproud  Delmingtons. 

Clarentine,  though  she  could  scarcely  help  laugh- 
ing, was  yet  sorry  to  have  appeared,  even  in  jest,  to 
require  such  a  warning.  She  flattered  herself,  how- 
ever, that  when  she  wrote  again  she  should  be  able 


to  prove  how  little  it  was  necessary  ;  and  meanwhile, 
discarding  from  her  mind  all  reflections  that  could 
excite  uneasiness,  gave  herself  up  without  reserve  to 
the  pleasure  that  resulted  from  the  consciousness  of 
having  benefited  those  she  loved,  and  performed  her 
own  part  with  rectitude. 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

SIX  weeks  had  now  nearly  elapsed  since  Claren- 
tine's  arrival  at  Hampstead,  and  except  Eltham,  who, 
in  that  time  had  repeatedly  called,  and  Mrs.  Denbigh, 
who,  since  the  return  of  Mr.  Lenham,  often  drank 
tea  at  the  house,  she  had  scarcely  seen  one  individual 
who  did  not  immediately  belong  to  the  family,  or 
ventured  beyond  the  limits  of  the  garden,  or  the 
small  field  that  adjoined  to  it. 

One  evening,  however,  being  left,  at  the  end  of  that 
period,  tete-a-tete^  with  Miss  Barclaj^  whose  mother 
was  gone  to  London  upon  business  with  Mr.  Lenham, 
she  consented  at  that  youug  lady's  pressing  solicita- 
tion to  accompany  her  on  a  more  distant  ramble. 

The  evening  was  so  fine,  and,  when  it  contained  no 
company.  Miss  Barclay's  aversion  to  the  house  was 
so  great,  that  night  was  coming  on  rapidly  before 
Clarentine  could  persuade  her  to  turn  back  ;  and  cpn- 
sequently  when  they  arrived  at  their  own  door  it  was 
already  completely  dark. 

Rejoiced,  however,  to  have  reached  home  at  all, 
Clarentine,  after  she  entered,  staid  not  to  reproach 
her  adventurous  companion  for  her  imprudence,  but 
quitting  her  at  the  bottom  of  the  stairs,  turned  short 
into  the  parlour  to  look  whether  any  letters  had  been 
brought  for  her  during  her  absence. 

As  she  opened  the  door,  and  was  hastily  advancing 
without  any  other  light  than  that  which  a  glimmering 

Vol.  II.  B  05 


14 

fire  afforded,  the  tall  figure  of  a  man  standing  up  im- 
mediately opposite  to  her,  with  his  back  to  the  chim- 
ney, startled  her  so  much,  that  she  was  half  tempted 
to  run  out  again.  Hearing  one  of  the  maids,  how- 
ever, in  the  passage,  she  called  to  her,  and  with  as 
little  appearance  of  alarm  as  she  could,  said  in  a  low 
voice — 

"  Is  this  gentleman  waiting  for  your  master  ?" 

"  Yes,  Miss — he  came  in  just  before  you." 

Somewhat  re-assured  on  finding  he  had  gained  le- 
gal admission^  she  then  ordered  candles,  intending 
the  moment  they  were  brought  to  quit  the  room,  and 
rejoin  Miss  Barclay. 

Meanwhile,  the  stranger,  (who  in  height  and  fi- 
gure bore  so  peculiar  a  resemblance  to  Eltham,  that 
she  was  sometimes  half  tempted  to  think  it  was  El- 
tham in  person)  had  resigned  his  station  at  the  fire, 
and  very  politely  placed  a  chair  for  her  near  it,  con- 
cluding she  meant  as  well  as  himself  to  wait  there 
till  Mr.  Lenham  returned. 

Clarentine,  too  much  embarrassed  by  the  awkward- 
ness of  her  situation  to  attempt  speaking,  only  bowed 
her  thanks,  without  venturing  to  move  from  the  door, 
which  she  held  half  open  in  her  hand,  ready  to  make 
her  escape  the  moment  the  maid  re-appeared. 

A  silence  so  determined,  and  still  more,  the  cau- 
tious distance  at  which  she  stood,  seemed  to  excite 
the  stranger's  curiosity,  for,  before  the  candles  could 
arrive,  growing  impatient  to  see  her  face,  he  once 
again  approached  the  fire,  and  gave  it  so  effectual  a 
stir,  that  the  bright  flame  into  which  it  burst  out 
enalDled  him  instantly  to  take  a  perfect  view  of  her 
whole  countenance,  at  the  same  time  that  it  likewise 
afforded  her  an  opportunity  of  examining  him. 

The  total  silence  that  had  preceded  this  mutual 
survey  was  now  but  of  short  duration.  Clarentine, 
agitated,  and  ahnost  breathless,  broke  it  first ;  and 
irresolutely  advancing,  said  in  an  eager  and  tremu- 


15 

lous  accent,  whilst  her  eyes  were  intently  rivetted  on 
his  face — 

"  Do  I  deceive  myself?  Can  this  be  real  f  Are 
you  indeed  Capt.  Somerset  ?" 

Somerset  (for  it  was  he  himself)  allowed  her  time 
to  say  no  more.  Struck  by  the  earnest  tone  of  her 
voice,  and  the  touching  sensibility  that  was  evident 
in  her  countenance,  his  warm  and  affectionate  heart 
sprung  forth  to  meet  her,  and  told  him,  at  once,  she 
could  be  no  other  than  the  dear,  the  pitied,  and  ever 
lovely  orphan,  whom  he  had  parted  from  almost  a 
child,  and  now  beheld,  in  stature  and  in  form,  a  fi- 
nished, graceful  woman. 

"  My  Clarentine !"  cried  he,  flying  towards  her, 
and  taking  her  hand,  '<  my  dearest  Clarentine  !  How 
little  was  I  prepared  for  the  pleasure  of  meeting  you 
here!  Do  you  live  with  Mr.  Lenham?  Have  you 
been  long  in  town  ?  Tell  me,  tell  me  every  thing  that 
relates  to  yourself,  and  every  thing  which  you  may 
reasonably  suppose,  a  wanderer  such  as  I  have  been, 
must  wish  to  know  and  feel  interested  in  hearing !" 

"  I  will,"  cried  Clarentine,  smiling  at  his  eager- 
ness, "  I  will  most  readily  :  but  at  least  sit  down  to 
hear  my  tale  j  for  since  you  ask  so  much  at  once,  you 
cannot  expect  me  to  be  very  brief." 

The  entrance  of  the  maid  prevented  her  saying  any 
more,  and  checked  for  a  time  the  enquiries  which 
Somerset  was  so  anxious  to  pour  forth.  His  eyes, 
however,  during  that  interval  spoke  most  expressive- 
ly, and  as  he  again  delightedly  regarded  her  with 
looks  of  admiration  and  surprise,  plainly  indicated  all 
the  pleasure  he  felt,  and  all  the  friendship  he  retained. 

When  once  more  they  were  left  by  themselves,  he- 
sitating a  moment,  and  half-smiling,  he  said,  "  The 
longer  I  see  you,  the  less  I  know  how  to  renounce  my 
ancient  privileges  ;  and  yet,  I  ought  not  now  to  ad- 
dress you  thus  familiarly,  to  call  you,  as  in  former 
times,  my  Clarentine^  and  to  treat  you  with  this  un- 
courtly  plainness.     Can  you,  in  consideration  of  what 


16 

I  am,  a  blunt,  unpolished  sailor,  can  you  pardon  so 

glaring  a  solecism  in  good  manners  ?" 

"  Would  I  could  as  easily  pardon,"  replied  Cla- 
rentine,  a  little  reproachfully,  "  your  long  silence,  and 
your  breach  of  promise  !" 

Somerset's  gaiety  vanished  in  a  moment — 

"  Is  this,"  cried  he,  earnestly,  "  a  just  reproach  ? 
No,  believe  me — frequently  and  constantly  did  I 
write,  not  only  during  my  late  West-India  station, 
but  also  while  yet  cruising  in  the  Mediterranean  ;  to 
some  of  the  earliest  of  these  letters  I  even  received 
answers,  but  to  all  those  of  later  date  you  have  inva- 
riably remained  silent." 

Clarentine  at  the  conclusion  of  this  speech  looked 
a  little  conscious,  and  appeared  at  a  loss  what  defence 
to  make  for  herself.  The  fact  was,  that  not  having 
received,  since  he  quitted  the  Mediterranean,  any  one 
of  the  letters  he  had  written,  she  had  grown  weary  of 
keeping  up  so  languid  a  correspondence,  and  had 
wholly  discontinued  writing  herself.  This,  after 
some  hesitation,  she  honestly  confessed ;  and  peace 
being  then  restored,  Somerset  earnestly  besought  her 
to  gratify  the  anxious  curiosity  he  had  to  know  what 
cause  had  determined  her  to  quit  her  former  resi- 
dence. 

Though  infinitely  averse  to  entering  fully  upon  this 
subject,  and  fearful  of  drawing  upon  herself  the  im- 
putation of  vanity  and  conceit,  Clarentine  so  far  con- 
quered her  reluctance,  however,  as  to  speak  of  it,  af- 
ter the  first  moment,  with  all  that  candour  and  open- 
ness which  Somerset's  long  friendship  for  her,  his 
near  relationship,  and  the  interest  he  took  in  her  af- 
fairs, entitled  him,  she  thought,  to  expect.  Throw- 
ing off  all  disguise,  therefore,  she  frankly  acknow- 
ledged that  to  Sir^Edgar's  imprudent  attachment  was 
alone  to  be  attributed  her  late  removal,  and  her  pre- 
sent situation.  ^^ 

This  confession  naturally  led  to  the  mention  of 
Lady  Julia,  whose  engagement  she  spoke  of  with  the 


17 

same  sincerity,  as  well  as  of  the  obligation  she  had 
thought  herself  under,  on  account  of  the  confidence 
and  kindness  with  which  her  Ladyship  had  always 
honoured  her,  to  repress  any  hopes  Sir  Edgar  might 
have  conceived  with  regard  to  herself, 

"  Of  perfidy  towards  a  friend  for  whom  I  enter- 
tained so  much  affection,  and  who  in  herself  was  so 
amiable,  I  may  venture  to  affirm,"  continued  Ciaren- 
tine,  "  I  should  have  been  utterly  incapable,  even  had 
my  love  for  Sir  Edgar  been  of  a  nature  less  sisterly 
than  it  was.  Not  for  one  moment,  therefore,  did  I 
harbour  the  detestable  idea— form  the  slightest  wish 
of  supplanting  her  ;  neither  should  I  have  been  weak 
enough,  if  I  had^  to  imagine  such  an  attempt  could 
ever  have  been  sanctioned  by  his  mother.  Destined 
consequently,  if  I  remained  in  the  same  house,  to  be- 
come an  object  of  continual  suspicion — to  shun  Sir 
Edgar  assiduously — to  dissemble  with  Lady  Julia, 
and  in  return  perhaps  to  excite  only  distrust,  I  now 
begin  to  think,  however  I  might  lament  it  at  first,  that 
the  temporary  banishment  to  which  I  have  been  con- 
signed, was  the  happiest  thing  that  could  have  befal- 
len me.  Sir  Edgar  also,  I  am  now  persuaded,  thinks 
so  himself.  He  has  implicitly  submitted  to  the 
wishes  of  his  family,  and  ratified  every  promise  that 
had  been  made  for  him." 

"  Ten  thousand  thanks,  my  charming  friend,"  cried 
Somerset,  when  she  paused,  "  ten  thousand  thanks 
for  this  ingenuous  recital.  The  noble  sincerity  that 
so  early  distinguished  you — that  so  early  excited  the 
esteem  and  confidence  of  all  who  knew  you,  time,  I 
perceive,  has  had  no  power  to  diminish.  You.  are 
still  the  same  open,  unreserved,  and  generous  Cla- 
rentine  I  ever  found  you !" 

'''  I  suspect  by  the  warmth  of  this  eulogium,"  re- 
plied Clarentine,  smiling,  "  you  impute  greater  merit 
to  me  upon  the  present  occasion  than  I  really  deserve. 
Had  my  heart  been  as  much  a  sufferer  in  this  busi- 
B  2 


18 

ness  as  my  pride,  my  frankness  to  you  might  indeed 
have  claimed  some  admiration ;  but  that  not  bein^ 
the  case,  I  had  nothing  more  to  overcome  than  a  mo- 
mentary sensation  of  embarrassment,  the  natural  con- 
sequence of  bemg  the  heroine;  and   what  is  worse, 
the  heroine  m  dzsgrace^oi  my  own  tale.     Let  us 
now,  however,-  added  she,  "talk  of  something  else. 
How  long  have  you  been  in  England  ?" 
"A  very  short  time,"  answered  Somerset. 
He  then  proceeded  to  inform  her  of  the  dreadful 
shock  he  had  received,  on  his  arrival  in  Northamp- 
tonshire, whither  he  hastened  the  instant  he  landed, 
m  total  Ignorance  of  the  melancholy  event  that  had 
recently  taken  place.     Unprepared  as  he  was  for  such 
intelligence--di spirited  and  completely  overpowered 
by  It,  he  had  for  some  days  no   courage  to  think  of 
writing,  or  even  to  attempt  moving  from  the  gloomy 
and  uninhabited  mansion  to  which,  with  such  far  dif- 
lerent  hopes,  he  had  so  eagerly  repaired. 

Becoming  impatient,  however,  to  learn  some  tid- 
ings^ of  his  friends  in  London,  but  more  particularly 
of  the  revered  and  venerable  Mr.  Lenham,  he  had 
macle  an  effort  at  length  to  shake  off  the  listlessness 
and  depression  that  had  hitherto  retained  him  in  in- 
activity, and  determined  to  set  out  and  make  those 
.  inquiries  in  person.  In  London  he  had  seen  only  the 
old  domestic  who  still  resided  in  his  father's  house  ; 
and  from  him  obtaining  no  satisfactory  information^ 
had  proceeded  forward  almost  without  stopping  till 
he  reached  Hampstead. 

7  his  little  narrative  was  scarcely  concluded,  before 
Mr.  Lenham  returned. 

Clarentine  witnessed  the  first  meeting  of  that  ex- 
cellent man  and  his  youthful  friend,  with  the  most 
sympathising  emotions  of  delight  and  joy.  They  re- 
mained, however,  but  a  short  tiipe  below,  as  the  pre. 
sence  of  Mrs.  and  Miss  Barclay,  who  soon  after  en- 
tered the  room,  seemed  to  repress  the  mutual  over-    ' 


19 

flowings  of  their  hearts,  and  utterly  to  prevent  their 
engaging  in  any  confidential  discourse. 

When  therefore  they  had  retired  to  Mr.  Lenham's 
study,  and  Clarentine  was  left  with  the  two  ladies. 
Miss  Barclay,  with  an  eagerness  it  was  by  no  means 
easy  to  account  for,  asked  how  long  Somerset  had 
been  arrived  ?  where  he  intended  to  reside  ?  what 
stay  it  was  probable  he  would  make  in  England  ? 
and  so  many  oth«-r  questions  of  the  same  nature,  that 
Clarentine,  unprepared  for  such  an  examination,  at 
length  attempted  to  check  it,  by  saying — 

"  I  am  not  yet  acquainted  with  half  these  particu- 
lars, my  dear  Miss  Barclay,  and  therefore  cannot 
possibly  reply  to  them  ;  but  tell  me,  whence  this  ex- 
treme solicitude  concerning  Captain  Somerset  ?  did 
you  ever  see  him  before  ?" 

"  Yes,  very  often — and  yet,  it  is  not  for  myself  I 
ask  all  this.     I  was  desired  by " 

She  stopped,  and  colouring  violently,  presently 
added — "  In  short,  I  have  reasons  for  wishing  to  know 
as  much  as  I  can  about  him.  If  you  don't  choose, 
however,  to  give  me  any  information,  I  shall  endea- 
vour to  find  out  those  that  will." 

*'  Why,  what  is  all  this  fuss  and  secresy  about?" 
enquired  her  mother,  a  little  angrily — "  I  should  be 
glad  to  know,  Lucy,  what  Capt.  Somerset  can  be  to 
you !" 

"  Lord,  mama  !"  exclaimed  Miss  Lucy  peevishly, 
"  how  should  you  understand  any  thing  about  the 
matter  ! — I  suppose  I  may  ask  a  common  question  or 
two  without  being  called  to  account  for  it  like  a 
child  !" 

And  so  saying,  she  indignantly  flung  out  of  the 
room,  throwing  the  door  after  her  with  such  violence, 
that  she  made  every  window  in  the  house  rattle  in 
its  frame. 

'•'•  Lord  help  us,  what  a  girl  it  is !"  cried  her 
mother,  as  soon  as  she  was  gone — "  there's  no  speak- 
ing a  word  to  her  without  putting  her  in  a  pet!  I  dare 


20 

say,  however,  I  have  guessed  pretty  nearly  what  it 
is.  Miss  Clary,  that  makes  her  so  curious  about 
your  cousin.  She's  a  fool  for  her  pains,  and  had 
much  better  be  minding  her  own  affairs,  than  trying 
to  play  other  people's  cards  for  them." 

Clarentine  was  totally  unable  to  comprehend  this 
hint,  and  but  little  inclined  to  seek  its  explanation. 
She  therefore  suffered  it  to  pass  without  any  comment, 
and  Mrs.  Barclay,  the  next  minute,  began  talking  of 
other  things. 

At  supper  the  two  gentlemen  made  their  appear- 
ance again,  and  Miss  Barclay  hearing  them  go  down, 
smoothed  her  frowning  brow,  and  tripped  lightly  af- 
ter them.  She  seated  herself  opposite  Somerset,  and 
devoted  her  whole  attention  to  him  ;  frequently  fixing 
her  large  dark  eyes  upon  his  face  with  an  earnest- 
ness and  perseverance,  that  no  less  astonished  Cla- 
rentine, than  it  evidently  offended  Mr.  Lenham.  As 
for  Somerset  himself,  it  was  some  time  before  he  ob- 
served her :  but  when  he  did,  regarding  her  in  re- 
turn with  nearly  equal  curiosity,  he  suddenly  address- 
ed her  as  a  person  he  had  that  moment  recollected, 
and  said — 

"  I  think  I  have  had  the  honour  of  seeing  you 
somewhere  else.  Madam.  Were  you  not  with  Miss 
Compton  at  Mrs.  Castleton's  near  Portsmouth,  just 
before  my  last  embarkation  but  one  r" 

Miss  Barclay  answered  in  the  affirmative,  adding, 
"  Miss  Compton  is  Mrs.  Hertford  now.  She  married 
soon  after  you  sailed." 

"  I  hope,"  resumed  Somerset,  "  she  is  well." 

"  I  have  not  seen  her  very  lately," — replied  Miss 
Barclay,—^"  But  as  I  understand  she  is  now  in  town 
for  a  short  time,  I  hope  to  have  that  pleasure  to-mor- 
row." 

Somerset's  enquiries,  after  this,  proceeded  no  fur- 
ther :  but  Miss  Barclay  evidently  wishing  to  dwell 
upon  the  subject,  entered  into  a  minute  detail  of  every 
thing  that  had  befallen  her  friend  since  her  marriage  ,• 


21 

and  concluded  by  lamenting,  in  very  strong  terms, 
the  unfortunate  dependence  and  pecuniary  embar- 
rassments to  which  so  lovely  and  accomplished  a  wo- 
man found  herself  reduced. 

Somerset  appeared  to  concur  in  this  opinion  very 
sincerely.  He  immediately  wrote  down  Mrs.  Hert- 
ford's direction,  and  declared  his  intention  of  calling 
upon  her  the  next  morning. 

This  little  dialogue,  though  it  seemed  not  to  strike 
any  one  else,  surprised  Clarentine  extremely.  In 
Mrs.  Hertford  she  appeared  fated  to  discover,  acci- 
cidentally  and  by  degrees,  a  woman,  who  though 
nearly  a  stranger  to  herself,  was  intimately  known  to 
every  acquaintance  or  friend  she  had,  and  by  each 
of  them  individually  seemed  to  be  held  in  a  different 
degree  of  estimation.  Eltham,  she  had  found, 
thought  of  her  with  contempt,  and  spoke  of  her  with 
derision ;  Miss  Barclay  never  mentioned  her  but 
with  the  most  unbounded  praise  and  admiration  ;  Mr. 
Lenham  appeared  not  to  doubt  the  respectability  of 
her  character,  but,  at  the  same  time,  to  know  too  lit- 
tle of  her  to  regard  her  with  any  thing  but  indiffer- 
ence ;  Mrs.  Barclay  had  already  betrayed  that  she 
considered  her  as  a  coquette  ;  and  lastly,  Somerset, 
uninfluenced  by  the  partiality  of  the  one,  or  the  pre- 
judices of  the  other,  openly  professed  to  feel  for  her 
the  utmost  compassion,  and  to  look  upon  her  with 
the  truest  esteem.  How  were  all  these  various  opi- 
nions to  be  reconciled  ?  Clarentine  was  lost  in  doubt 
and  perplexity.  Less  inclined,  however,  to  distrust 
the  favourable  sentiments  of  Somerset,  than  to  sus- 
pect the  judgment  of  Eltham,  she  once  again,  more 
strongly  than  ever,  was  confirmed  in  the  belief  that 
he  had  injured  Mrs.  Hertford,  and  causelessly  led 
her  to  imbibe  an  erroneous  idea  of  her. 

Well  acquainted  with  the  early  hours  Mr.  Len- 
ham was  accustomed  to  keep,  his  considerate  guest 
took  leave  soon  after  they  rose  from  table,  promising 


22  ^ 


to  repeat  his  visit  some  time  in  the  course  of  the  fol- 
lovvmg  day. 

Accordingly,  the  next  evening,  just  as  Clarentine, 
who,  though  she  knew  not  why,  had  been  called 
down  to  tea  sooner  than  usual,  was  preparing  to  obey 
the  summons,  she  saw  him,  from  her  closet  window, 
open  the  gate  before  the  house,  and  walk  up  to  the 
door.  They  met  at  the  foot  of  the  stairs,  Somerset 
on  heanng  her  call  to  him  having  waited  there  till 
she  ran  down ;  and  after  a  short  conversation  enter- 
ed the  parlour  together.— In  addition  to  the  usual 
lamily  party,  they  found,  seated  next  Mr.  Lenham 
at  the  tea  table,  his  friend  Mrs.  Denbigh.  Captain 
^omerset  knew  that  lady  well,  and  immediately 
hastened  forward  to  pay  his  respects  to  her;  whilst 
f^larentme,  mcapable  of  attending  to  any  thing  else, 
stood  tor  some  minutes  petrified  with  amazement, 
considering  the  altered  dress,  a^id  strange  decorations 
ot  Mrs  and  Miss  Barclay,  who  both,  it  was  evident, 
were  thus  attired  for  foreign  conquest,  and  perhaps 
also  for  domestic  admiration. 

As  soon  as  tea  was  over,  and  the  two  ladies  did 
every  thing  m  their  power  to  hurry  it  as  much  as 
possible,  Miss  Barclay  started  up,  and  casting  her 
eyes  towards  the  antique  clock,  which,  from  the 
chimney-piece  on  which  it  stood,  had  with  undeviating 
regularity  monotonously  chimed  each  revolving  hour 
for  more  than  thirty  years,  eagerly  called  out  to  her 
mother — 

"  Lord  mama,  we  shall  be  monstrous  late  ;  pray 
get  your  cloak  and  let's  be  off." 

Young  Blandford  upon  this  addressed  himself  to 
Mrs.  Barclay,  and  said — 

"  Shall  I  be  allowed  to  go  with  you  ma'am?" 

"  I  don't  know,  indeed,  child ;  you  hav'n't  ffot 
leave,  have  you  ?"  ^ 

"  O  yes,"  said  Mr.  Lenham  smiling,  "  if  you 
choose  to  be  troubled  with  him,  he  has  mv  full  per- 
mission. '  "  ^ 


23 

«  Well  then,  good-by  to  you  all,"  cried  Mrs.  Bar- 
clay,  "  good  by.     Come  along,  Lucy,  come." 

"  O,  but  stop,  mama,"  said  Miss  Lucy,  "  stop  a 
minute  ;  I  forgot  it  till  now  ;  but  Mr.  Eltham,"  added 
she,  "overtook  me  in  Pall  Mall,  just  as  I  was  step- 
ping up  to  Mrs.  Hertford's  door,  and  gave  me  a 
thousand  messages  to  deliver  to  Miss  Delmington  ; 
they  are  half  gone  out  of  my  head,  but  I  remember, 
however,  they  were  all  excessive  civil,  and  (audibly 
whispering,  with  affected  mysteriousness)  excessive 
tender  !  There,  now,  I  have  executed  my  commission 
— Pm  ready.— Come  Blandford." 

Then  followed  by  her  mother,  in  as  high  spirits  as 
herself,  away  tripped  this  exact  and  punctilious  lady. 

Somerset,  extremely  amused  by  their  eagerness, 
now  asked  whither  in  such  haste  they  were  gone  ? 

Mrs.  Denbigh,  with  a  shrug  and  an  emphatical 
groan,  answered —      '^ 

"  To  Breslaw's  the  Conjurer .'" 

Clarentine  stared ;  Somerset  laughed ;  and  Mr. 
Lenham  mildly  said — 

"  Nay,  my  dear  madam,  why  should  we  despise 
these  good  people  for  seeking  to  divert  themselves 
their  own  way  ?  If  their  minds  are  incapacitated  for 
higher  enjoyments,  in  God's  name,  let  them  go  to  the 
Conjurer'' s?"* 

"  Why,  truly,"  resumed  Mrs.  Denbigh,  leisurely 
tapping  the  lid  of  her  snuff-box,  "  if  by  some  lucky 
slight  of  hand  the  cunning  man  could  succeed  in  twirl- 
ing their  brains  round  to  the  proper  place,  I  should 
think  their  time  could  not  be  better  spent :  but  with 
all  his  ingenuity,  I  never  heard  friend  Breslaw  pos- 
sessed the  requisite  abilities  for  such  a  task." 

"  Who  knows,"  thought  Somerset,  "  what  friend 
Breslaw  might  achieve  if  the  brains  were  there  to 
twirl !" 

Then  addressing  Clarentine — 

"  How  comes  it,"  said  he,  smiling,  «  you  were  net 
of  this  party  ?" 


24, 

"  I  never  heard  it  had  been  planned/'  answered 
she,  "  till  it  would  have  been  too  late  to  have  propo- 
sed joining  it." 

"  O,  Miss  Delmington,  I  understand,"  said  Mrs. 
Denbigh,  "  is  deemed  utterly  unworthy  of  being 
made  a  partaker  of  these  refined  amusements  !  Mrs. 
Barclay  was  not  even  permitted  to  mention  her  in- 
tention before  her." 

At  that  moment  a  loud  ring  at  the  gate-bell  was 
heard  ;  and  whilst  Mr.  Lenham  was  endeavouring 
to  conjecture  who  this  unexpected  visitor  might  be, 
the  maid  entered,  and  particularly  addressing  the  in- 
telligence to  Clarentine,  announced  Mr.  Eltham. 

Somerset,  instantly  recollecting  the  parting  speech 
Miss  Barclay  had  uttered,  turned  his  eyes  towards 
Clarentine  with  an  arch  smile,  and  was  beginning  to 
rally  her  upon  this  visit,  when  observing  her  change 
colour,  and  look  extremely  disconcerted,  he  checked 
himself  in  some  consternation,  and  directed  all  his 
attention  towards  the  door,  at  which  Eltham,  the 
next  minute,  made  his  appearance. 

Bowing  first  to  Clarentine,  as  to  the  person  whom 
his  visit  was  principally  designed  for,  and  then  in  a 
more  general  way,  to  the  rest  of  the  party,  he  drew 
a  chair  near  her's,  and  was  upon  the  point  of  seating 
himself,  when  Mr.  Lenham,  who  had  at  first  forgot 
that  ceremony,  but  now  recollected  that  as  they  might 
often  meet  it  would  be  necessary,  begged  leave  .o 
introduce  him  and  Capt.  Somerset  to  each  other. 

Eltham,  starting  at  the  name,  and  looking  towards 
Somerset,  who  at  the  same  moment  bowed  to  him 
with  the  most  eager  curiosity,  made  a  grave  inclina- 
tion to  him  in  return,  and  taking  his  place  in  total 
silence,  assumed  an  air  of  extreme  reserve,  and  spoke 
not  for  a  considerable  time,  unless  called  upon  by 
some  direct  enquiry. 

The  first  quarter  of  an  hour  v/as  devoted,  as  is  in- 
variably the  case  among  people  who  know  but  little 
of  each  other's  habits  and  connexions,  to  animadvert- 


25 

ing  upon  the  heat  or  cold  of  the  weather  ;  the  fulness 
or  emptiness  of  the  town  ;  the  dustiness  of  the  roads, 
and  other  such  enlivening  topics  !  By  degrees,  how- 
ever, the  conversation  took  a  more  agreeable  turn  : 
Somerset,  who  at  first  had  been  too  much  offended 
by  the  cold  haughtiness  of  Eltham's  manners  to  bear 
any  part  in  it,  animated  by  the  example  of  Mr.  Len- 
ham  and  Mrs.  Denbigh,  made  an  effort  to  conquer 
his  ill-humour ;  and  Eltham  reviving  likewise,  and 
every  where  equally  at  his  ease,  and  equally  unem- 
barrassed, soon  engaged  them  all  three,  either  in  earn- 
est support,  or  opposition,  of  the  wild  opinions  he  ad- 
vanced, and,  at  least,  if  he  oould  not  cojivhice^  enter- 
tained;  if  he  could  not  overpower^  perplex  them. 

Clarentine  during  this  conversation  sat  at  work, 
and  wholly  silent ;  but  by  no  means  inattentive.  She 
was  amused  by  the  fire  and  eccentricity  of  Eltham  ; 
charmed  by  the  candour  and  patience  of  Mr.  Len- 
ham  ;  surprised  at  the  information  and  knowledge  of 
Mrs.  Denbigh ;  and  interested  by  the  modesty,  the 
good  sense  and  unassuming  gentleness  of  Somerset. 
In  him,  though  she  observed  not  the  same  boldness 
in  maintaining  extravagant  systems,  or  the  same  rea- 
diness to  assert^  and  eagerness  to  defend  preposterous 
chimeras  that  she  discovered  in  Eltham,  she  per- 
ceived a  clearness  of  judgment,  and  a  consistency  of 
principle,  that  weighed  far  more  with  her  than  all 
the  false  glare  of  his  antagonist,  the  brilliancy  of  his 
wit,  or  the  ingenuity  of  his  arguments. 

This  spirited,  but  amicable  contention,  lasted  till 
the  return  of  Mrs.  and  Miss  Barclay,  and  their  young 
companion.  Eltham  would  then  have  taken  his  leave, 
but  Mr.  Lenham,  naturally  hospitable  and  polite, 
pressed  him  to  stay  supper  ;  and  to  this  without  mucli 
importunity,  he  consented. 

Meanwhile  young  Blandford,  having  seated  him- 
self next  Clarentine,  was  giving  her,  at  her  own  re- 
quest, a  circumstantial  detail  of  all  the  wonders  to 

Vol.  II.  C 


26 

which  he  had  been  a  witness.  The  subject  sooti  drew 
the  attention  of  Mrs.  Barclay  herself,  who  as  much 
a  child  to  the  full  as  the  juvenile  narrator,  hung  over 
the  back  of  his  chair,  assisted  him  in  the  recital  when- 
ever his  memory  failed,  and  appeared  to  enjoy  nearly 
as  much  delight  in  repeating-  what  she  had  seen,  as 
she  could  have  done  had  the  whole  been  acted  again 
before  her. 

Their  eagerness  and  volubility  at  length  excited  the 
curiosity  of  Somerset  and  Eltham,  who  now  became 
auditors  in  their  turn,  affected  to  listen  with  the  ut- 
most astonishment  to  the  many  surprising  feats  of 
dexterity  that  were  recounted;  and  so  enchanted 
the  two  relators  by  their  earnest  attention,  that  had 
not  a  timely  summons  to  the  supper-table  interrupted 
the  flow  of  their  eloquence,  Clarentine,  must  have 
despaired  of  release  till  the  whole  party  broke  up  for 
the  night. 

The  conversation  during  their  meal,  though  it  was 
more  diffuse  and  unconnected  than  it  had  been  in  the 
early  part  of  the  evening,  was  supported  with  good- 
sense  by.90we,  with  good-humour  by  cr// present ;  and 
when  the  hour  of  separation  drew  near,  every  body 
appeared  to"  think  of  it  with  reluctance. 

At  the  moment  of  taking  leave,  Eltham  perceiving 
that  Clarentine  stood  at  some  distance  from  the  rest 
of  the  company,  took  advantage  of  the  general  confu- 
sion to  approach,  and  address  her  in  a  low  voice — 

"  I  begin  to  like  your  Somerset,"  said  he,  "  better 
than  I  expected.  He  is  rational  without  being  dull; 
and  the  first  in  whom  I  ever  found  united  tlie  plain 
frankness  of  a  sailor,  with  the  good-breeding  and  the 
polish  of  a  man  of  fashion !" 

"  I  am  glad  to  find  you  so  well  disposed  to  do  him 
justice,"  said  Clarentine. 

"  Ah,  hut  remember,"  resumed  Eltham  with  quick- 
ness,— "  remember  upon  what  terms  I  do  him  this 
justice  ;  no  longer  than  whilst  he  inviolably  adheres 
to  his  present  character  oi  guardiar.^  and  oi  friend  I  ' 


27 

"Then  long,  I  believe,"  said  Clarentine,  smiling, 
•'  long  indeed  may  he  flatter  himself  he  shall  retain 
vour  favour !" 

"  Are  you  sincere  ?"  cried  Eltham,  stedfastly  re- 
garding her,  "  are  you  really  sincere  in  this  opinion  ? 
You  blush !"  continued  he,  after  a  short  silence. 
"  Oh  Clarentine  !  you  spoke  not  as  your  wishes,  or 
your  heart  directed !"' 

Clarentine  affecting  to  laugh,  yet  cruelly  confused, 
turned  away  without  answering  him,  and  walked  up 
to  Mr.  Lenham ;  whilst  Eltham,  rooted  for  some 
minutes  to  the  spot  where  she  had  left  him,  followed 
her  reproachfully  with  his  eyes  ;  and  then,  hardly  con- 
scious of  what  he  did,  put  on  his  hat,  and  ran  abrupt- 
ly out  of  the  room.  Somerset  soon  after  followed 
him,  and  Clarentine  the  next  moment  retired. 


CHAPTER  IX. 

SOMERSET,  unwilling  to  remove  to  any  dis- 
tance from  Hampstead,  had  now  established  himself 
at  his  house  in  Clifford  street,  for  the  winter,  and 
scarcely  suffered  a  day  to  pass  in  the  course  of  which 
he  did  not,  either  morning  or  evening,  visit  his 
young  ward.  Attentive  to  the  minutest  circum- 
stance that  could  conduce  to  her  domestic  comfort 
and  convenience,  and  well  knowing  that  her  ow?i 
would  be  the  last  wants  she  would  allow  herself  to 
supply,  he  took  the  utmost  delight  in  ornamenting 
and  fitting  up  for  her  the  favourite  closet  he  had 
heard  her  so  partially  commemorate.  Books,  draw- 
ings, an  excellent  harp,  purchased  in  consequence  of 
having  accidently  learnt  from  Eltham  that  she  used 
to  perform  upon  that  instrument ;  in  short,  whatever 


58 

fancy  could  devise,  or  wealth  procure  to  make  this 
little  retreat  worthy  of  the  lovely  possessor,  was  pro- 
fusely lavished  upon  it;  and  by  Clarentine,  sensible 
of  the  generous  pleasure  he  took  in  thus  seeking  to 
promote  her  satisfaction,  gratefully,  yet  sometimes 
half  reproachfully,  accepted. 

If  she  walked  out,  he  accompanied  her ;  whilst  she 
sat  working  or  drawing,  he  read  to  her ;  whatever 
she  expressed  the  slightest  wish  to  learn,  he  sought 
the  best  instructors  to  teach  her ; — and  all  this  with 
such  unpresuming  delicacy,  such  a  constant  dread  of 
disgusting  her  by  too  great  an  appearance  of  officious- 
ness,  that  his  assiduities,  far  from  oppressing,  or  lay- 
ing her  under  the  smallest  restraint,  seemed  but  to 
wear  the  form  of  an  affectionate  brother's  kindness, 
and  never  lessened,  or  for  one  moment  checked  that 
gay  and  innocent  familiarity  with  which  she  had  al- 
ways been  accustomed  to  treat  him.  He  was  her 
counsellor,  guardian,  protector,  and  friend  all  in  one ; 
she  loved  him  with  the  most  artless  tenderness ;  ad- 
vised with  and  confided  in  him  implicitly  upon  all 
occasions  ;  received  every  fresh  mark  of  his  atten- 
tion with  mingled  pride  and  pleasure,  as  an  addition* 
id  proof  of  his  approbation  and  good  opinion;  de- 
lighted in  his  society,  and  never  felt  so  thoroughly 
elated  as  when  she  could  flatter  herself  with  the  hope 
of  having,  by  her  cheerfulness,  and  zealous  endea- 
vours to  oblige  him,  contributed,  in  some  measure, 
to  his  happiness  from  whom  she  derived  so  large  a 
portion  of  her  orvn. 

From  a  state  of  felicity  thus  pure,  and  thus  serene, 
she  was  first  disturbed  by  the  importunate  attentions 
of  Eltham,  and  the  yet  more,  to  her,  irksome  and 
depressing  visits  of  Mrs.  Hertford.  This  lady  of 
late  renewing  more  closely  than  ever  her  former  in- 
timrxy  with  Miss  Barclay,  and  renewing  likewise  all 
iier  former  inexplicable  civility  to  Clarentine,  had 
established  herself,  for  the  remainder  of  the  Autumn. 


29 

in  lodgings  within  a  ftw  doors  of  Mr.  Lenham's, 
and  might  almost  be  said  to  spend  her  whole  time  at 
his  house.  She  was  accomplished,  animated,  and  at- 
tractive ;  by  the  major  part  of  the  family,  therefore, 
her  society  was  considered  as  a  most  valuable  acqui- 
sition ;  and  by  every  guest  who  met  her  there,  she 
was  flattered  and  admired.  Yet  Clarentine,  who, 
mild  and  placid  as  she  was,  supported  with  patient 
forbearance  the  pert  familiarity  of  Miss  Barclay,  or 
the  abrupt  vulgarity  of  her  mother ;  Clarentine,  of 
wh  om  it  might  so  j  ustly  have  hitherto  been  said,  that — 

"  Her  smiles  were  sober,  and  her  looks 
•*  Were  cheerful  unto  all,"* 

in  defiance  of  her  wonted  candour  and  sweetness, 
knew  not  how  to  endure  this  universal  favourite. 
Vain  had  been  every  internal  argument  she  had  hi- 
therto held  in  her  behalf ;  vain  all  her  attempts  to 
banish  from  her  memory  the  first  disadvantageous 
impression  she  had  received  of  her  !  The  more  she 
saw  her,  the  more  reserved  and  distant  she  found 
herself  involuntarily  becoming  ;  and  to  so  painful  a 
degree  did  these  sensations  of  dislike  at  length  arise, 
that  as  often  as  she  could,  when  Mrs.  Hertford  call- 
ed, she  formed  some  excuse  for  quitting  the  room, 
and  retreating  to  her  own  till  she  was  gone. 

Somerset,  unsuspicious  of  the  motive  that  gave 
birth  to  this  singularity  of  conduct,  gazed  after  her 
on  these  occasions  with  looks  of  equal  mortification 
and  concern.  Often,  though  without  success,  did  he 
attempt  as  she  approached  the  door  to  lead  her  back, 
or  at  least,  to  extract  from  her  a  promise  that  she 
would  soon  return.  However  gentle  her  refusals, 
they  were  always  steady  and  firm  ;  she  could  give  no 
reason  for  her  inflexibility,  but  if  urged  too  long,  her 
eyes  involuntarily  filled  with  tears,  she  looked  dis- 

•  Reliques  of  Ancient  Poetry. 
C  2 


30 

tressed  and  embarrassed  ;  and  the  generous  Somer- 
set, too  considerate  to  press  her  further,  in  silent  won- 
der suffered  her  to  depart. 

From  her  earliest  infancy,  Clarentine  recollected 
to  have  heard  it  said,  and  by  one  whom  she  respected 
,and  believed,  the  honoured  Lady  Delmington,  that 
the  most  certain  cure  for  the  dejection  of  a  mind  ill 
at  ease,  was  activity  and  employment.  Clarentine's 
mind,  and  she  too  well  suspected  the  cause,  was  ill 
at  ease,  more  so  than  she  ever  remembered  to  have 
known  it  before.  I'o  employment,  therefore,  the 
most  diligent  and  incessant,  she  had  eager  recourse  ; 
and  though  her  own  wishes  would  have  prompted 
her  to  indulge  in  listles.sness,  and  even  indolence,  to 
her  own  wishes  she  permitted  not  herself  to  attend  ; 
but  spurred  on  by  the  hope  of  driving  from  her  mind 
the  sadness  that  oppressed  it,  ever}^  hour  was  devoted 
to  the  pursuit  of  some  useful  occupation,  or  to  the 
accomplishment  of  some  benevolent  design.  In  com- 
pany with  Mrs.  Denbigh,  who  upon  a  longer  ac- 
quaintance she  found  as  much  reason  to  esteem  as  to 
admire,  she  visited  and  relieved  many  of  the  sick  poor 
in  the  neighbourhood  ;  recommended  thtir  children 
TO  the  notice  and  protection  of  Mr.  Lenham ;  found 
work  for  some  of  the  young  women  who  were  willing 
to  be  employed  ;  and  dispensed  with  so  liberal  a  hand 
around  her  every  blessing  which  kindness,  sympathy, 
and  timely,  though  not  profuse  donations,  can  con- 
fer, that  however  anxious  and  disquieted  she  might 
at  intervals  still  feel,  all  real  sorrow  was  nearly  for- 
gotten, and  in  contemplating  the  few,  but  grateful 
happy  she  had  made,  she  was  sometimes  more  than 
half  inclined  to  include  herself  m  the  number. 


31 


CHAPTER  X. 

HITHERTO  Clarentine,  though  she  had  now 
been  at  Mr.  Lenham^s  near  four  months,  had  rarely 
been  in  London,  and,  except  to  Mrs.  Denbigh,  had 
never  paid  any  visits  whatever.  She  knew  not  a 
single  individual  in  town  ;  and  Somerset  had  always 
so  earnestly  cautioned  her  not  to  accompany  the  Bar- 
clays to  any  of  the  inferior  public-places  to  which 
they  were  perpetually  resorting,  that  she  had  reso- 
lutely declined  ever  being  of  their  parties. 

One  morning,  however,  towards  the  latter  end  of 
November,  hearing  that  the  two  ladies  were  going  to 
town  upon  what  they  called  shopping;'  business,  and 
meant  positively  to  return  to  dinner  ;  wishing  to 
seize  that  opportunity  of  making  some  purchases  for 
herself,  she  proposed,  if  it  was  not  inconvenient,  go- 
ing with  them. 

Somerset,  who  was  present  when  this  plan  was 
agreed  upon,  very  strenuously  sought  to  obtain  per- 
mission to  attend  her  ;  but  this,  Clarentine  as  strenu- 
ously opposed.  Her  prepossession  against  Mrs. 
Hertford  had  for  some  time  past  began  to  give  way 
to  a  slight  degree  of  resentment  against  Somerset 
himself.  She  feared  to  whisper  it  even  to  her  own 
heart,  and  yet  she  could"  not  but  feel,  that  the  atten- 
tion he  paid  that  lady ;  the  pleasure  he  appeared  to 
take  in  her  conversation  ;  and  the  flattering  admira- 
tion he  avowed  for  her,  had  excited  in  her  breast  at 
some  moments  an  emotion  so  nearly  bordering  upon 
envy,  and  so  closely  allied  to  jealousy  and  anger,  that 
there  could  be  but  one  passion,  to  which  such  sensa- 
tions were  to  be  attributed — and  that  passion  was 
love  !  Long  had  she  most  clearly  discerned  what 
were  the  designs  of  Mrs.  Hertford  herself;  and  long 
had  she  beheld  with  astonishment  her  artful  and  per- 
severing endeavours   to  captivate  and  attach  him. 


32 


Floating  between  hope  and  fear  ;  conscious  that  her 
own  heart  was  gone,  and  doubtful  what  would  be  the 
result  of  her  rival's  schemes,  it  had,  however  been 
but  of  late  that  she  had  seriously  apprehend  d'  they 
would  be  successful ;  every  hour  now  confirmed  her 

,r»?H^  '  '''^°  ^.^^""^^  perfectly  to  have  pene. 

fea;^oftm:r::t  ""'""'"'^'  '°'  ^"^"^'"^"^  '^'  ^^■ 
1    **j*^  the  woman,  however,  whom  he  had  thus  se- 
lected, afflicting  to  Clarentine  as  it  must  ever  have 
been  to  know  he  had  selected  any,  possessed  a  cW 
racter  more  conformable  to  his  own,  and  appeared  to 
tl"ir  ^/'"■^'"S.  and  more  worthy,  she^flattered 
herself  and  not  unjustly,  that  she  could  have  sub. 
The  fir!t°  ''?',  "^'f  PP^'^t^ent  with  greater  fortitude. 
The  first  wish  of  her  heart  was  to  see  him  happy 
but  happy  she  was  too  well  persuaded  a  man  like  him 
-whose  disposition  was  all  kindness   and  affection, 
and    whose    attachments   were   all  domestic— eould 
never  be  with  a  woman  who,  like  Mrs.  Hertford  be 
trayed  unconsciously  a  nature  so  devoid  of  sensibili- 
ty, a  heart  so  selfish,  and  a  mind  so  devoted  to  dissi- 
pation. 

^iuT^™^''  ^hen  silently  observing  them  as  they 
walked  or  conversed  together,  Clarentine  had  fancied 
this  idea  seemed  to  strike  Somerset  likewise.  Her 
b  andishments  and  her  flattery  appeared  to  fatigue 
him  ;  the  coldest  gravity  often  overspread  his  coun- 

vmT'v."  '^-^  u^'t^  ?*'''"y  ""'''^f'  >'«  ="^^<=  knowing 
what  he  did,  he  had  eagerly  seized  on  the  most  fri- 
volous pretences  to  escape  from  her,  and  with  stu- 
died procrastination  delayed  rejoining  her  again. 

On  these  occasions,  had  she  permitted  it,  Claren- 
tme  perceu^ed  he  would  gladly  have  taken  refuge 
with  her.  She  avoided  him,  however,  most  assidt 
ously  ;  or  if  ,it  any  time  accident  threw  her  in  his 
way  when  there  was  no  third  person  present,  behaved 


33 


to  him  with  a  reserve  and  formality,  so  unhke  her 
former  confidential  gaiety,  that  although  he  formed 
not  the  most  distant  conjecture  of  its  cause,  he  tound 
himself  involuntarily  repulsed  by  her  coldness,  and 
obliged  to  desist  from  all  further  importunity. 

Upon  the  present  occurrence,  this  newly-assumed 
solemnity  had  shown  itself  with  more  than  usual 
force,  and  Clarentine's  rejection  of  him,  uttered  be- 
fore  Mrs,  Hertford,  had  been  accompanied  by  a  look 
of  impatience,  and  a  smile  of  disdain,  that  confound- 
ed no  less  than  it  amazed  him.  He  gazed  at  her  lor 
some  minutes,  as  if  he  doubted  the  evidence  ot  his 
own  senses,  and  then  after  a  long  pause,  attempting 
to  take  her  hand,  said — 

«  Miss  Delmington,  I  entreat,  I  conjure  you, 
though  you  have  denied  my  first  request,  at  least 
jrrant  me  five  minutes  conversation  before  you  go  ! 

"I  cannot,  indeed,"  replied  she—"  Mrs.  Barclay, 
I  believe,  is  ready,  and  it  is  time  we  should  set  out. 

Then  turning  to  Mrs.  Hertford,  in  whose  eyes  she 
beheld  a  gleam  of  malicious  joy,  that  made  her  shud- 
der, she  slightly  curtsied  to  her,  and  leaving  them 
together,  hastened  away. 

The  moment  she  found  herself  at  liberty,  her  4uU 
heart  bursting  with  contending  passions,  she  gave  way 
to  an  agony  of  tears,  and  rushed  into  the  first  room 
that  was  open,  to  conceal  her  sorrow  and  her  weak- 
ness. Her  face  covered,  and  her  aching  head  resting 
against  a  chair,  she  was  vainly  endeavouring  to  stifle 
the  deep,  and  but  too  audible  sobs  that  escaped  her, 
when,  in  a  voice  of  the  tenderest  compassion,  she 
heard'  herself  suddenly  addressed  by  the  amazed  and 
benevolent  Mr.  Lenham — 

"  My  gentle  Clarentine,"  cried  he,  taking  her  hand 
— "  whence  this  excess  of  grief  ?  Who  has  been  with 
you  ?  Who  is  it  that  has  thus  cruelly  disturbed  you  ? 

Clarentine,  looking  up,  and  deeply  blushing,  re- 
plied with  a  melancholy  smile—*'  The  enemy  who 


34 


drawing  ifer  hand-.  ExTusT  Z'J  '""  S^"^'^'  n*' 

guardedly  expose  myS'^      '""  =^^  '"^  *"^  """ 

So  saying,  without  daring  to  wait  till  h^  «„^i,    . 
her  aga.n,  she  left  him,  and  L  up  to  her  ^wn'^onl 

her  to  appear      She  h»  ^•.       '  °""  '""''^  compelled 

-ts§ii:S-^^^^^ 

-^ed;"ui:ti;':rorstar  ^°  "="  ^'^^-^  "^p-'-^^ 
wa^Sr^'ht^aToSartr:,'-  ^'•^.-  «-<='^y 

off."    ^^"^  "°''°'*y  t''  «'^y  for,"  added  she,  "  let's  be 

ClalenTi^f  ^'^i  *:^ '^^^rr''"'-  ^^^"^  '■"mediately  ; 

consdornefth  tirset^tC^t''?"^  '"  *^^ 
to  Mrs.  Hertford,  was  stm  ',,1  ""  ?P''^ ''""■''yed 
merset,  and  sheh\Zf    i  *'^'>'  """^"own  to  So- 

Mr   T.^K  '^"'  ^'^°'  ""erfy  unsuspected  bv 

h  ^h  riee  th!  "h*'°"=  ^y^--^  °^^^  i"fo'-™ed  her  w  th 
S  af  a  friend's  K'n^'^'J^f  ="""S  "^  to  dine  in  the 
was  to  llT  ^""^f'^^here,  in  the  evening,  there 
was  to  be  a  ^ran</  christening,  and  where  she  e^ 
pected  to  meet  all  th,  world  and  hi,  x,ifr 


55 

**  Now,"  added  she,  "  if  you  were  good  for  any 
thing,'  Dame  Barclay,  you'd  go  along  with  me.  You 
are  quite  smart  enough,  and  they  know  you  very 
well." 

Mrs.  Barclay,  always  ready  for  anything  that  could 
be  called  a  frolic^  seemed  so  willing  to  embrace  this 
proposal,  could  she  but  devise  some  means  of  ac- 
quainting Mr.  Lenham  where  she  was  gone,  that  Cla- 
rentine  very  soon  perceiving  what  would  be  her  de- 
cision, and  dreading  to  be  included  in  this  party,  now 
stepped  forward,  and  said— 

"  I  can  deliver  to  him,  madam,  any  message  you 
please,  if  this  gentleman,"*  turning  to  the  master  of 
the  shop,  "  will  have  the  goodness  to  permit  one  of 
his  people  to  call  me  a  coach." 

"  Lord,  my  dear,"  cried  Mrs.  Barclay,  "  what 
should  you  go  home  for  if  I  don't  ?  They'll  know 
I'm  old  enough  to  keep  out  of  mischief,  and  I  dare 
say  will  never  be  such  fools  as  to  ti'ouble  their  heads 
about  me.  As  we  can't  conveniently  therefore  get 
any  body  to  carry  them  word,  let's  go  without,  and 
try  to  get  back  the  sooner  for't  in  the  evening." 

To  this,  as  far  as  related  to  herself,  Clarentine 
most  warmly  objected  :  but  Mrs.  Barclay,  half  af- 
fronted at  her  resistance,  and  totally  regardless  of 
her  arguments,  urged  her  so  vehemently  to  comply, 
and  so  nearly  betrayed  a  disposition  to  quarrel  with 
her  if  she  did  not,  that  timid  and  fearful,  a  reluctant 
assent  was  finally  drawn  from  her,  and  a  coach  im- 
mediately sent  for  to  convey  them  all  three  to  Good- 
man's Fields. 

After  a  tedious  ride  through  some  of  the  closest 
streets  in  London — streets  which  to  Clarentine,  who 
had  all  her  life  been  used  to  breathe  the  pure  air  of 
the  country,  appeared  scarcely  fit  for  human  habita- 
tion, they  at  length  arrived  at  their  place  of  destina- 
tion. What,  however,  was  poor  Mrs.  Barclay's  dis- 
appointment, when,  on  being  shewn  up  into  the  di- 


36 


iiing-room,  the  first  intelligence  she  heard  from  the 
mistress  of  the  house,  who  seemed  in  consequence,  to- 
tally unprepared  to  receive  company,  was,  that  her 
child  had  been  taken  ill,  and  the  christening  was  put 
off! 

"  Lord,"  cried  Mrs.  Watkins,  the  lady  who  had 
led  the  mortified  Mrs.  Barclay  thither,  "  why  did'n't 
you  send  me  word  so  ?" 

"  I  did  ;  a  note  went  to  your  house  by  ten  o'clock 
this  morning." 

"  Ten  o'clock !  Lord  help  you,  I  was  dressed  and 
out  before  that  time." 

"  I  am  extremely  sorry  it  happened  so,"  resumed 
the  lady,  "  but  upon  my  word  I  could  not  send 
sooner." 

"  Well,"  cried  Mrs.  Watkins,  recovering  from  her 
first  consternation,  "  if  the  worst  comes  to  the  worst, 
you,  and  this  young  lady,  Dame  Barclay,  must  go 
home  and  dine  with  we." 

"  You  are  very  good,"  said  Clarentine,  ''  but  we 
may  yet  get  back  to  Hampstead  in  perfect  time,  and 
that  will  be  infinitely  better  on  all  accounts." 

«  Lord  bless  me.  Miss  Clary,"  exclaimed  Mrs. 
Barclay,  affecting  to  laugh,  yet  evidently  much  dis- 
pleased at  her  presuming  to  answer  for  her,  "  you 
need  not  be  so  impatient,  for  though  Mr.  Eltham 
did  say  he'd  call  to-day,  I'll  lay  my  life  he'll  not  set 
out  till  evening,  and  therefore  you  may  safely  dine 
in  town  without  fearing  to  miss  him." 

"  O,  there's  a  sweet-heart  in  the  case,  is  there  ?" 
cries  Mrs.  Watkins,  facetiously,  "  I  don't  so  much 
wonder  then  at  the  young  lady's  unwillingness." 

Extremely  provoked  at  these  speeches,  Clarentine 
now  determined  to  give  up  all  interference,  and  quiet- 
ly to  let  Mrs.  Barclay  pursue  her  own  course.  She 
accordingly  followed  the  two  ladies  back  into  the 
coach,  which  fortunately  had  not  yet  been  dismissed, 
and  in  passive  silence  heard  them  give  orders  to  be 
driven  to  Long  Acre. 


37 

On  their  arrival  there,  Mrs.  Watkins,  ushering 
them  into  a  dark  and  comfortless  back-parlour,  in 
which  were  two  or  three  noisy,  quarrelling  children, 
left  them  to  give  orders  concerning  dinner,  and  to 
see  the  cloth  laid  in  the  front  room. 

"  Well,"  cried  Mrs.  Barclay,  as  soon  as  she  was 
gone,  "  I've  been  led  into  a  mighty  scrape  indeed  ! 
It  does'n't  signify,  but  to  be  sure  she  richly  deserves 
all  the  trouble  she'll  have.  I  dare  say  her  cupboard 
is  empty  enough  !  Ten  to  one  if  we  get  a  scrap  of 
any  thing  these  two  hours." 

Clarentine  thinking  it  vain  to  remonstrate  against 
the  indelicacy  of  accepting  an  invitation,  which  must 
necessarily  be  attended  with  so  much  inconvenience 
to  the  person  by  whom  it  was  made,  w*as  silent  for 
some  minutes,  and  then  began  talking  with  one  of  the 
children,  whom  finding  more  intelligent  than  the  rest, 
she  amused  herself  with  during  the  remainder  of  the 
time  they  waited  ;  whilst  Mrs.  Barclay,  who  perhaps 
had  scarcely  looked  into  a  book  before  since  she  quit- 
ted school,  took  up  an  old  magazine,  and  sat  yawn- 
ing over  it  till  the  dinner  was  announced. 

The  instant  they  rose  from  table,  Mrs.  Barclay,  by 
ih'is  time  as  much  sickened  oi  her  frolic  as  Clarentine 
had  long  been  before,  looked  at  her  watch,  and  de- 
clared it  was  so  late  they  must  "  make  the  best  of 
their  way  home  directly." 

"No,  no.  Dame  Barclay,"  cried  Mrs.  Watkins, 
laughing,  "  not  quite  so  fast  neither  !  Do  you  know 
that  to  make  you  amends  for  your  balk  in  Good- 
man's Fields,  I  sent  off  a  boy  to  Hampstead,  before 
we  sat  down  to  dinner,  to  acquaint  Mr.  Lenham  that 
I  should  keep  you  here  this  evening  to  go  to  the 
play  with  me  ^  Ay,  and  what's  more,"  added  she, 
"  you  may  stay  and  take  a  bed  here  if  you  like." 

Joy  lighted  up  every  feature  in  Mrs.  Barclay's 
face  at  this  most  welcome  intelligence.  As  eager 
now  to  set  off  for  the  theatre  as  she  had  the  moment 

Vol.  II.  D 


before  been  to  return  home,  she  allowed  Mrs.  Wat- 
kins  no  time  to  order  tea  :  but  like  an  impatient 
child,  protesting  she  could  not  "  settle  to  any  thing," 
and  had  rather  *'  stand  at  the  play-house  door  tiU  it 
was  opened,  than  sit  where  she  was  fidgetting  and 
thinking  about  it  an  hour  before-hand,"  she  persua- 
ded that  lady,  though  it  was  yet  scarcely  more  than 
five  o^clock,  to  set  out  with  her  immediately,  and 
drew  the  wearied  but  unopposing  Clarentine,  who 
was  allowed  no  option,  away  with  her. 

In  any  other  party,  or  in  any  other  state  of  mind, 
however,  the  prospect  of  visiting,  for  the  Jirst  time, 
not  only  a  London  theatre,  but  a  theatre  of  any  kind 
—for  hitherto  Clarentine  had  never  been  to  a  play 
in  her  life — would  have  afforded  her  the  liveliest 
pleasure.  Nay,  as  it  was,  the  cheerful  animal  spirits 
so  natural  to  her  age  and  genuine  character,  were  in- 
sensibly revived  at  the  idea  ;  and  though  less  rest- 
less, and  less  perturbed  than  her  buxom  companion, 
she  was  scarcely  less  pleased,  and  scarcely  less  desi- 
rous of  reaching  the  scene  of  so  much  expected  feli- 
city. 

They  had  not  proceeded  far,  though  Mrs.  Barclay 
walked  with  a  swiftness  that  was  almost  too  much 
even  for  the  light  and  active  Clarentine,  when  dri- 
ving towards  them  with  great  rapidity,  she  perceiv- 
ed Mr.  Eltham's  carriage,  and  Eltham  himself  within 
it.  She  shrunk  behind  her  two  conductors  at  this 
sight,  hoping  to  escape  his  notice  ;  but  Eltham's  eyes, 
quick  and  discerning,  had  caught  a  transient  view  of 
her,  and  before  she  had  time  to  congratulate  herself 
upon  her  fancied  escape,  the  carriage  suddenly  stop- 
ped, and  he  was  at  her  elbow — 

"  My  fair  Clarentine  !"  cried  he,  with  his  accus- 
tomed impetuosity,  "  by  what  fortunate  chance  have 
I  the  happiness  of  meeting  you  ?  Where  at  such  an 
hour  can  you  be  going  ?  and  how  is  it,"  looking  earn- 
estly at  her,  "  I  behold  you  here  without  your  guar- 
dian r' 


Clarentine  replying  only  to  his  first  enquiries,  an- 
swered— 

*'  I  came  to  town  this  morning  upon  some  busi- 
ness, and  am  now  going  to  the  play." 

*'  To  the  play  ?"  repeated  Eltham,  "  I  am  very 
glad  I  know  it,  for  I  meant  to  have  gone  this  even- 
ing to  Hampstead.  Are  you  not  very  early,  however." 

''  O,  that's  no  matter ;"  said  Mrs.  Barclay,  "  we 
shall  get  the  better  places  for't." 

"  And  where,  madam,"  resumed  Eltham,  "  may  I 
be  allowed  to  ask,  do  you  mean  to  sit  ?" 

"  In  the  pit,"  answered  she. 

Eltham  upon  this  looked  at  Clarentine  with  an  air 
that  seemed  to  imply,  "  and  do  you  sit  there  too  ?" 
But  Clarentine  unconscious  of  his  meaning,  and  per- 
fectly igrorant  which  was  the  best,  or  which  the 
worst  place  in  the  house,  remained  silent,  and  walk- 
ed tranquilly  on. 

In  a  few  minutes,  Eltham,  who  seemed  to  have 
been  debating  within  himself  how  he  should  act,  and 
whose  carriage  during  this  time  had  slowly  followed 
him,  beckoned  to  his  servant,  and  bidding  him  go 
home,  ordered  him  to  tell  the  coachman  likewise,  he 
should  not  want  him  again. 

Then  flying  after  Clarentine,  who  regardless  of 
his  stopping,  had  herself  proceeded  forward,  and 
nearly  reached  the  end  of  the  street. — "  I  intend 
myself  the  pleasure  of  going  to  the  play  with  you," 
cried  he. 

"  Lord,  Mr.  Eltham,"  exclaimed  Mrs.  Barclay, 
"  what  should  you  go  for  ?  I  dare  say  you  have  not 
dined  yet." 

"  My  dear  madam,"  cried  Eltham,  laughing,  "  do 
you  think  I  am  a  man  of  so  little  taste  as  not  infinite- 
ly to  prefer  your  company  to  the  gross  pleasures  of 
the  table  ?" 

"  I  think,  at  least,"  replied  Mrs.  Barclay  drily,' 
''  there  is  a  certain  person  in  the  world  whom  you 


40 

infinitely  prefer  to  every  things  though  I  a'n't  such  a 
fool  as  not  to  know  that  is'n't  me  /" 

"  You  do  me  great  injustice,"  resumed  he  ironical- 
ly, "  for  were  I,  indeed,  susceptible  of  an  exclusive 
attachment,  upon  whom  could  I  better  fix  my 
choice  ?" 

This  speech  was  rather  too  ambiguous  for  Mrs. 
Barclay's  powers  of  comprehension  ;  she  felt  not  its 
absurdity,  nor  was  pained  by  its  ridicule  ;  and  there- 
fore walked  on  v/ithout  taking  of  it  the  slightest 
notice. 

They  were  now  arrived  at  the  play-house  door, 
which  though  it  yet,  as  had  been  foreseen,  remained 
unopened,  was  already  crowded  with  eager  expec- 
tants, impatient  to  gain  admission.  Eltham  cast  an 
anxious  look  towards  Clarentine  as  they  advanced, 
and  saw  her  turn  pale  at  the  scene  of  confusion  in 
which  she  was  about  to  be  involved.  She  mechani- 
cally caught  hold  of  his  arm  (which  he  had  before 
vainly  offered)  and  starting  at  every  loud  shout  she 
heard,  drawing  fearfully  back  upon  the  arrival  of 
every  fresh  party,  and  dreading  to  be  entirely  sur- 
rounded, very  soon  completely  lost  sight  not  only  of 
the  dauntless  Mrs.  Barclay,  but  of  her  friend. 

Eltham,  whom  her  terror  conceitied,  though  her 
reluctance  to  proceed  delighted,  moved  as  she  moved, 
and  retreated  as  she  retreated.  His  manly  figure,  his 
height,  and  Commanding  aspect  secured  her  from  the 
danger  of  being  spoken  to,  for  no  one,  seeing  her  so 
protected,  had  the  courage  to  attempt  it  ;  but  as  she 
had  now  withdravvu  from  that  part  of  the  crowd 
where  the  anxiety  and  the  throng  was  the  greatest, 
she  became  an  object  of  much  attention  to  many  of 
the  idle  lookers  on,  who  without  intending  to  go  in, 
stood  unconcerned  spectators  of  the  bustle,  and  whom 
on  , all  sides  Eltham  heard  remarking — "  She's  a 
devilish  pretty  girl !"  "  How  well  she  puts  on  that 
inok  of  timidity  !■'  "  Ay,  to  be  sure,  she's  no  favour- 


41 

ite  with  her  companion  !"— and  many  other  similar 
observations,  which  provoked  him  so  much,  that,  ear- 
nestly addressing  her,  he  at  length  exclaimed— 

"  For  heaven's  sake,  my  dearest  creature,  deter- 
mine upon  something,  and  either  try  once  more  to  go 
forward,  or  suffer  me  to  see  you  home ;  for  here  you 
are  liable  to  nothing  but  insult  and  impertinence  !" 

Startled  by  this  remonstrance,  and  now  for  the  first 
time,  perceiving  the  offensive  curiosity  she  had  ex- 
cited, she  endeavoured  to  gain  more  courage,  and 
agreed  to  move  on.  The  doors  opened  at  the  same 
moment,  and  a  general  rush  immediately  ensuing,  she 
was  instantly  enclosed  on  every  side,  impelled  irre- 
sistibly forward,  and  pressed,  staggered,  and  over- 
powered to  so  great  a  degree,  that  after  vainly  con- 
tending for  some  time,  in  agonies  unspeakable  with 
the  fearful  apprehensions  that  seized  her,  she  lost  all 
command  over  herself,  and  uttering  a  piercing  shriek, 
fell  back  without  sense  or  motion  in  Eltham's  arms. 

To  describe  the  consternation  and  distress  with 
which  he  was  filled  at  that  moment  would  be  impos- 
sible. Encompassed  by  a  set  of  people,  who,  callous 
and  unmoved,  stared  with  vacant  surprise  at  his 
speechless  burden,  and  then  proceeded  forward  in 
thoughtless  indifference  to  her  fate,  it  seemed  to  re- 
quire almost  supernatural  strength  to  repel  the  tor- 
rent that  oppressed  him,  or  to  force  himself  a  passage 
through  it.  Rage,  however,  and  indignation  lent 
him  vigour,  and  in  defiance  of  every  obstacle,  sternly 
commanding  those  about  him  to  make  way,  terrify- 
ing some  by  threats,  and  subduing  others  by  entreaty, 
he  at  length  accomplished  his  purpose,  and  bore  her 
safely,  though  still  inanimate,  to  the  first  shop  he 
found  opf  n. 

The  compassionate   assistance  that  was  there  af- 
forded her,  in  a  very  short  time  brought  her  back  to 
life  and  recollection.     She  smiled  gratefully  upon  El- 
tham  for  his  eare  and  attention,   and  thanking  the 
D  2 


42 

woman  of  the  shop,  who  with  much  civility  pressed 
her  to  stay  till  she  was  more  recovered,  declaring 
herself  perfectly  able  to  go,  and  begged  to  have  a 
coach  sent  for,  that  she  might  return  home  immedi- 
ately. 

"  I  think,  indeed,"  said  Eltham,  "  that  will  be  your 
best  plan  :  but  you  still  seem  too  much  hurried 
and  discomposed  to  remove  so  soon.  Sit  here  a  few 
minutes  longer,  and  let  me  before  you  enter  the  coach 
see  some  degree  of  colour  return  to  your  cheeks,  and 
some  of  their  usual  vivacity  re-animate  your  eyes. 
You  are  now  by  much  too  wan  and  ghostly  a  figure 
to  be  trusted  beyond  the  reach  of  assistance." 

Clarentine  wishing  to  send  either  a  note  or  mes- 
sage to  Mrs.  Watkins,  to  assure  Mrs.  Barclay,  on  her 
return  from  the  play,  of  her  safety,  agreed  to  a  few 
minutes  delay  on  that  account,  and  writing  upon  the 
back  of  a  letter,  as  legibly  as  her  yet  unsteady  hand 
would  allow  her,  a  few  lines  to  that  effect,  she  com- 
mitted them  to  the  care  of  the  mistress  of  the 
shop,  who  promised  they  should  be  safely  delivered. 

A  boy  belonging  to  the  house  was  then  despatched 
for  a  coach,  and  Clarentine  hearing  it  approach,  arose 
to  go. 

Eltham,  taking  her  hand  to  lead  her  out,  said  *'  I 
make  no  apology,  Miss  Delmington,  for  presuming  to 
accompany  you ;  ill  as  you  have  been  it  is  absolutely 
necessary  you  should  not  go  alone.  Nay,"  continued 
he,  observing  that  with  a  look  of  extreme  serious- 
ness, she  was  about  to  speak,  "  do  not  attempt  to 
oppose  it,  for  upon  this  occasion  you  will  find  me  as 
absolute  as  yourself.''^ 

He  then  made  a  passing  bow  to  the  mistress  of  the 
shop,  and  handing  Clarentine  into  the  coach,  jumped 
in  after  her,  and  directed  the  coachman  whither  to 
drive. 

Clarentine  observing  a  profound  silence  for  some 
minutes  after  they  were  seated,  Eltham,  a  little 
piqued,  at  length  said — 


43 

"  My  clearest  Miss  Delmington,  I  perceive  with 
concern,  that  upon  the  present,  as  upon  every  other 
occurrence,  I  have  had  the  misfortune  to  displease 
you.  Why,  however,  should  it  be  so  ?  Why  cannot 
you  consider  me  in  a  more  friendly  view  ?  Have  I 
so  totally  sunk  myself  in  your  good  opinion,  so  utter- 
ly forfeited  all  title  to  your  confidence,  that,  at  a  mo- 
ment like  this — requiring  protection,  yet  alone,  and 
unattended — you  fear  to  trust  yourself  with  me?" 

Clarentine  ashamed  and  distressed,  scarcely  knew 
what  answer  to  make  to  a  speech  so  serious,  and  so 
reproachful ;  she  stammered  out,  however,  a  few  words 
of  scarcely  intelligible  acknowledgment ;  and  then, 
seeking  to  change  the  subject,  said — 

**'  How  long  will  it  be,  sir,  before  you  go  down  to 
Welwyn  park  ?  I  understand  you  meant  to  spend 
there  the  greatest  part  of  the  shooting  season  ?" 

"  I  did  ;"  replied  Eltham — "  but  motives,  which, 
if  I  dared,  I  would  frankly  acknowledge  to  you,  have 
detained  me  in  town.  Arc  you  verij  impatient,  howe- 
ver, for  my  departure  ?" 

".  Would  an  answer  in  the  affirmative,"  asked  Cla- 
rentine smiling,  ''  be  remarkably  civil  ?" 

"  Perhaps  not :  but  from  you  I  dispense  with  civi- 
lity^ in  favour  of  candour.  Speak  to  me  then  as  you 
think,  and  honestly  say,  do  you  wish  me  to  go  ?" 

"  I  really  wish  you  to  do  nothing  but  what  most 
suits  your  own  convenience.  You  cannot  suppose, 
Mr.  Eltham,  I  have  any  desire  to  take  upon  myself 
the  direction  of  your  conduct !" 

*'  A  more  yV^waVictt/ personage  than  you  are,"  cried 
Eltham,  "  I  scarcely  ever  met  with  ;  you  seem  to 
have  made  the  art  of  pre\  arication  your  peculiar 
study,  and  have  obtained  a  degree  of  proficiency  in  it, 
that  does  honour  to  your  application  !" 

He  then  attempted  to  turn  the  conversation  upon 
the  subject  of  Somerset:  but  that  was  a  point  on 
which  Clarentine  v/as  impenetrable  indeed  !   and  on 


44 

which  her  answers  were  so  laconic  and  so  guarded, 
that  Eltham,  renewing  his  reproaches,  and  proceed- 
ing so  far  as  even  openly  to  accuse  her  of  dissimula- 
tion, awakened  in  her  a  species  of  indignation  which 
drew  from  her  a  retort  so  spirited,  and  so  severe, 
that,  silenced  and  offended  in  his  turn,  one  of  those 
mutual  and  almost  sullen  pauses  ensued,  the  conse- 
quence, so  frequently,  of  his  vehemence  and  impe- 
tuosity. 

He  was  the  first,  however,  at  length  to  speak — 

"  Upon  my  honour,"  said  he,  in  a  tone  which, 
though  it  proved  him  still  a  little  angry,  was  more 
good-humoured  than  Clarentine  expected,  "  I  sin- 
cerely believe  we  were  destined  to  be,  time  imme- 
morial, had  no  malign  influence  stepped  in  between 
us,  a  pair  of  true  and  veritable  lovers  !  We  quarrel 
with,  we  provoke  and  affront  each  other  with  all  the 
persevering  ingenuity  imaginable!  Every  perverse 
practice  that  lovers  are  said  to  delight  in,  we  like- 
wise perpetually  run  into.  All  that  is  wanting  to 
complete  the  resemblance,  are  the  enchanting  transi- 
tions from  anger  to  forgiveness — the  delicious  recon- 
ciliations  that  usually  follow  these  short-lived  tem- 
pests !" 

**  I  should  think  very  ill,"  said  Clarentine,  "  of  a 
lover,  who  made  it  his  study  wantonly  to  offend^  mere- 
ly to  have  the  pleasure  of  appeasing  me." 

**  Do  you  then  prefer  the  lifeless  insipidity  of  an 
attachment  composed  only  of  smiles,  and  monotonous 
serenity,  to  the  animated  and  ever-varying  transports 
of  a  passion,  which  sometimes  breaks  out  into  petu- 
lance and  caprice,  then  melts  again  into  tenderness 
and  complacency  ?" 

Clarentine  with  a  smile,  replied — 

"  Calmness  and  serenity,  however  monotonous  or 
insipid^  I  should  always  prefer  to  such  transient,  and 
unreasonable  transports." 

"  Ah,  Clarentine !"  exclaimed  he,  almost  involun- 


45 

tarily  seizing  her  hand,  "  I  cannot,  I  do  not  believe 
you!  The  brilliancy,  the  sparkling  intelligence  ot 
your  eyes,  the  glow  of  sensibility  diffused  over  your 
whole  countenance,  convinces  me  it  is  impossible  a 
love  so  cold,  so  languid,  should  constitute  the  sole 
emotion  of  your  heart !  you  were  born  to  inspire  and 
to  participate  in  sentiments  far  more  animated  and 
fervent!" 

Clarentine,  extremely  disgusted  at  the  incorrigible 
freedom  that  led  him  perpetually  to  address  her  in  a 
strain  so  flighty  and  improper — particularly,  as  that 
freedom  never  so  offensively  displayed  itself  as  when 
they  were  alone,  and  therefore  seemed  to  wear  the 
aspect  of  design  and  premeditation — now  said  very 
gravely — 

"  Mr.  Eltham,  I  am  unwilling  to  entertain  so  very 
ill  an  opinion  of  you,  as  to  suppose  the  continual  un- 
easiness you  occasion  me  by  such  extraordinary  lan- 
guage can  be  intentional:  but  as  I  perceive  that  to 
talk  to  me  at  all,  and  to  talk  to  me  in  a  manner  that 
gives  me  pain,  is  v/ith  you  invariably  the  same  thing, 
be  assured  this  is  the  last  time  that  any  circumstance 
whatever,  short  of  absolute  compulsion,  shall  again 
induce  me  to  accept  your  attendance,  or  commit  my- 
self to  your  care  !" 

This  timely  and  serious  rebuke,  immediately  con- 
vinced Eltham  he  had  presumed  too  far  upon  the 
well-known  placability  of  her  disposition,  and  could 
not  be  too  quick  in  seeking  to  make  his  peace.  He 
immediately  therefore — and  with  unwonted  humility 

endeavoured  to  obtain  her  pardon  ;  protested  he 

would  make  it  the  study  of  his  whole  life  never  in 
the  same  manner  to  offend  her  again  ;  and,  for  the 
rest  of  the  way,  miraculously  kept  his  promise  ! 


46 


CHAPTER  XI. 


ON  their  arrival  at  Hampstead,  Mr.  Lenham  hear- 
mg  her  voice  in  the  entrance,  and  surprised,  after  the 
message  he  had  received,  at  her  early  return,  hasten- 
ed out  to  meet  and  welcome  her.  Clarentine  rush- 
ed forward  the  instant  he  appeared,  and  delighted 
once  again  to  be  restored  to  his  protection,  was  be- 
gmning  an  account  of  her  adventures,  when  perceiv- 
ing immediately  behind  him,  regarding  her  with  an 
air  of  grave  and  frigid  solemnity,  Captain  Somerset! 
her  voice  faltered,  she  turned  pale,  and  scarcely  able 
to  refrain  from  tears,  walked  dejectedly  into  the  par- 
lour without  venturing  to  speak,  or  look  up  again. 

They  all  followed  her ;  and  Mr.  Lenham  taking 
her  hand,  and  addressing  her  with  the  kindest  soli- 
citude, said — 

"I  fear,  my  dear  young  friend,  the  troubles  and 
Uie  f^itigues  of  the  day  have  been  too  much  for  you. 
You  look  harassed  and  dispirited  ;  tell  me,  where  did 
Mrs.  Barclay  lead  you  ?  Where  is  she  now,  and  how 
came  you  back  without  her  r" 

Clarentine,  in  answer  to  these  friendly  interroga- 
tories, now  made  an  effort  to  speak,  and  as  briefly  as 
she  could  recounted  all  that  had  befallen  her.  'I'hen 
casting  a  timid  glance  towards  Somerset,  who  yet 
silent  and  thoughtful,  sat  leaning  against  the  table 
in  an  attitude  of  profound  attention,  she  forced  a  smile, 
and  said — - 

"Though  yoii,  my  dear  Mr.  Lenham,  kindly  sus- 
pended your  judgment,  till  you  heard  my  defence— 
other.s,  I  fear,  have  been  less  candid  !" 

Somerset,  looking  hurt  and  surprised,  rose  from 
his  seat,  and  begun  walking  about  the  room  in  evi- 
dent agitation  ;  whilst  Mr.  Lenham  said— 

"  You  deceive  yourself,  my  dear  young  lady  j  we 


47 


were  all  persuaded  that  your  delay  was  as  mvolun 
tary  as  it  was  alarming ;  and  when  Mrs.  Watkms's 
mesoenger  came,  and  Captain  Somerset,  who  is  but 
this  moment  returned  from  town  where  he  dmed, 
learnt  it  was  designed  to  carry  you  to  the  play,  his 
uneasiness  on  vour  account  was  so  great,  that  just  as 
you  arrived,  he  was  upon  the  point  of  setting  off  for 
London  again,  to  endeavour  to  assist  you  in  getting 
out,  and  to  see  you  safe  hom^." 

«  My  interference,  however,"  said  Somerset,  sus- 
pending his  walk  whilst  he  spoke,  and  then  slowly 
proceeding,  "  would  have  been  superfluous  ;  I  knew 
Rot  at  the  moment  I  planned  it,  how  well  Miss  Del- 
mington  was  attended  already." 

"  Mr.  Eltham,"  cried  Clarentine,  cruelly  discon- 
certed by  the  coldness  and  seriousness  with  which 
this  was  uttered,  **  met  me  by  mere  accident ;  and  I 
am  certain,  till  the  instant  I  was  taken  ill,  had  no  in- 
tention of  returning  with  me." 

"  At  all  events,"  resumed  Somerset,  ^'  my  services 
would  have  been  of  little  worth,  and  perhaps  I  have 
reason  to  congratulate  myself  that  their  untimely 
offer  met  not  with  a  second  rejection." 

Eltham,  who  during  this  little  dialogue  had,  by 
turns,  surveyed  the  two  speakers  with  looks  of  as- 
tonishment and  curiosity,  now  gaily  said— 

"  The  novelty  of  this  scene  is  really  enchanting ! 
On  one  side  we'behold  a  grave  and  venerable  man," 
bowing  to  Mr.  Lenham,  "  who  in  his  capacity  of 
Guardian,  though  anxious  for  the  welfare  of  his  ward, 
is  mild  and  gende  ;  willing  to  credit  her  vindication, 
and  desirous  of  restoring  her  to  confidence.  On  the 
other,"  looking  towards  Somerset,  ^' lo  !  where  there 
stands  a  young,  but  (pardon  the  expression)  incre- 
dulous and  rigid  censor,  who  in  his  capacity  of 
Guardian,  though  tenacious  of  his  privileges,  does 
nothing  to  secure  them ;  and  who  assuming  the  aus- 
terity that  belongs  in  general  only  to  age,  leaves,  at 


48 

once,  the  gallantry  and  the  indulgence  of  youth,  to 
his  senior  in  office. 

Somerset,  who  towards  the  end  of  this  speech  had 
stopped  short  and  sternly  listened  to  its  conclusion 
with  his  eyes  steadily  fixed  upon  Eltham,  was  now 
beginning  some  very  sarcastic  reply  to  it,  when  Mr. 
Lenham  interposing,  said — 

_  '^  Captain  Somerset,  it  cannot  really  be  your  inten- 
tion seriously  to  resent  this  speech  ?  a  speech  uttered 
in  railler\',  and  meant  but  as  a  good-humoured  re- 
proof of  your  gravity." 

Somerset  checked  himself;  and  though  his  coun- 
tenance resumed  not  immediately  all  its  wonted  calm- 
ness, forbore  saying  any  thing  farther. 

Meanwhile,  the  grieved  and  humbled  Clarentine 
one  moment  petrified  at  Somerset's  chilling  indiffer- 
ence, the  next  frightened  at  his  apprehended  asperi- 
ty, sat  motionless  and  silent,  with  her  eyes  fixed  upon 
the  floor,  and  her  whole  heart  so  saddened  and  so 
depressed,  that  it  was  with  the  utmost  difficulty  she 
kept  her  place,  or  knew  how  to  disperse  the  tears 
that  were  every  instant  ready  to  start. 

The  sight  of  this  dejection,  the  paleness  of  her 
countenance,  and  the  remembrance  of  the  distressing 
scene  he  had  witnessed  in  the  morning,  excited  Mr. 
Lenham's  utmost  inquietude  and  concern.  He  mo* 
ved  towards  her,  and  whilst  Eltham  was  speaking  to 
Miss  Barclay,  who  at  that  moment  entered,  and  So- 
merset with  affected  unconcern  was  lookino-  over  the 
newspaper,  intreated  her,  in  the  most  anxious  and 
pressing  terms,  to  tell  him  what  it  was  that  caused 
in  her  so  melancholy  a  change  ? 

Clarentine,  overpowered  by  this  gentleness  and 
sympathy,  and  no  longer  able  to  command  the  tears 
she  had  so  long  struggled  to  restrain,  now  said  in  a 
low^  and  faltering  voice — 

J'  Oh,  do  not,  dearest  Sir,  do  not  speak  to  me  with 
this  oppressing  kindness,  I  conjure  you  !     Could  I, 


49 

dared  I  confide  in  any  one,  it  should  be  in  you  :  but 
mine  is  a  secret  that  ought  not  to  be  told !" 

"  You  amaze  me  !"  cried  he,  "  what  secret  can  be 
deposited  in  a  heart  so  guileless  and  so  pure  as  yours, 
that  you  need  blush  to  reveal  ?" 

"  Alas,  Sir !"  exclaimed  Qarentine,  sighing,  "  how 
little  you  suspect  the  state  of  that  heart  you  seek  thus 
benevolently  to  penetrate.  It  is  filled  at  this  moment 
with  every  evil  passion.  Pride,  resentment,  envy  and 
ingratitude  assail  it  by  turns  ;  and,  oh  Sir,  assail  it  so 
forcibly,  that  I  know  not  how  to  repel  them  !" 

Mr.  Lenham  inexpressibly  astonished  at  this  speech, 
looked  at  her  a  few  minutes  in  silent  consternation  ; 
then  fearing  they  might  be  observed,  sa'^d — 

"  This  is  no  place  in  which  to  solicit  you  for  an 
explanation ;  but  to-morrow  I  hope  you  will  not  re- 
fuse to  gratify  a  curiosity  you  have  so  painfully 
raised !" 

Clarentine's  heart  was  too  full  to  speak,  and  Mr. 
Lenham,  kindly  pressing  her  hand  as  he  arose,  walk- 
ed away. 

A  few  minutes  after  Eltham  took  his  seat,  and 
earnestly  examining  her,  at  length  abruptly  said — 

"  Has  Mr.  Lenham  been  playing  the  same  part  your 
other  guardian  did  ?     You  have  been  weeping.  Miss 

Delmington  ;    you    seem    distressed Wherefore  ? 

What  has  occasioned  it  V* 

Too  much  disturbed  to  attend  to  him,  Clarentine, 
turned  from  his  enquiring  eye  with  embarrassment 
and  uneasiness,  and  assuring  him  he  had  mistaken 
fatigue  for  sorrow,  besought  him  to  leave  her — 

"  I  will ;"  cried  he,  rising  immediately,  "  it  would 
be  barbarous  at  such  a  time  to  importune  you  longer." 

He  then  rejoined  the  party  round  the  table  ;  and 
Clarentine  perceiving  she  might  quit  the  room  with- 
out being  observed,  very  soon  after  went  up  stairs. 

The  tacit  consent  she  had  given  to  Mr.  Lenham's 
request  of  an  explanation  the  next  day,  there  recur- 

VoL.  IL  E 


50 

red  to  her  with  the  most  painful  sensations  of  self  re- 
proach. Should  she,  acknowledging  her  weakness  to 
Somerset's  most  approved  and  estabUshed  friend, 
voluntarily  put  herself  in  danger  of  having  it  betrayed 
to  Somerset  himself  ?   The  idea  was  insupportable  ' 

"  Who  I,"  cried  she,  «  I  be  the  publisher  of  my 
own  disgrace  ?  I  empower  any  one  to  report  to  him 
a  confession  so  humiliating ;  disclose  not  only  my 
love,  but  my  disappointment,  my  vain  wishes,  my 
jealousy  and  regret  ?  No,  never !  Somerset's  indiffer- 
ence I  may  learn  to  bear;  but  to  become  the  object 
either  of  his  pity  or  his  contempt  would  be  too 
much !" 

The  result  of  these  angry  self  interrogatories  was, 
a  fixed  determination  assiduously  to  shun  the  half- 
promised  but  mortifying  conference  to  which  she 
expected  to  be  called  j  or,  if  unavoidably  drawn  into 
it,  frankly  to  declare  she  already  repented  having 
even  gone  so  far,  and  most  earnestly  wished  Mr. 
Lenham  would  release  her  from  an  engagement  she 
found  it  so  difficult  to  fulfil. 

"  Perhaps,"  cried  she,  "  he  may  at  first,  be  tempt- 
ed to  accuse  me  of  caprice  and  inconsistency  ;  he  may 
justly  wonder,  that  whilst,  at  one  moment,  I  speak 
with  such  unguarded  openness  as  even  to  lead  to  a 
supposition  I  xvish  to  be  penetrated,  the  next,  I  should  ' 
thus  strangely  recant.  Far  better,  however,  is  it,  he 
should  conjecture  the  worst  from  my  silence,  than 
for  a  single  instant  imagine  my  confidence  is  intend- 
ed as  a  call  upon  his  compassion,  and  granted  merely 
with  a  view  of  exciting  him  to  plead  for  me  with  So- 
merset! P/ead  for  me,"  added  she  indignantly, 
"Good  God,  in  such  circumstances  as  mine — in  any  . 
circumstances  plead  for  the  favour  of  a  man  decided- 
ly attached  to  another !  Oh  Somerset !  low  as  I  am 
sunk,  hopeless,  grieved,  and  dispirited  as  I  feel,  not 
even  to  obtain  your  commiseration  would  I  subject 
myself  to  the  suspicion  of  a  meanness  so  abject  .^' 


51 

The  pride  which  thus  seasonably  came  to  her  sup- 
port, aided  by  reason  and  cooler  reflection,  now  led 
her  also  to  ask  herself,  \vh"  she  indulged  against  him 
a  degree  of  resentment,  which,  free  as  he.  was  to 
choose  for  himself,  and  painfully  as  it  embittered  her 
own  existence,  was,  at  once,  so  unjust,  and  so  irra- 
tional ?  He  was  under  no  engagement  to  her  ;  had 
never  professed  for  her  any  other  sentiments  than 
those  of  friendship,  and  undesigning  regard.  Had 
she  any  right  then,  either  to  manifest  open  blame,  or 
cherish  secret  displeasure  ?  Was  it  not  as  degrading 
to  evince  such  unwarranted  petulance,  as  even  to  be- 
tray her  unreturned  partiality  ? She  felt,  she  ac- 
knowledged it :  and  firmly  determined  henceforward 
to  reform  her  conduct ;  and,  if  not  too  late,  once  more 
to  seek  his  friendships  though  she  renounced  all 
claim  to  his  /ov^.— "  I  owe,"  thought  she,  "  this  effort 
to  my  own  character ;  I  owe  it  to  Somerset's  past 
kindness  and  attention.  My  reserve,  my  coldness, 
inexplicable  to  him  as  it  must  appear  after  all  the 
confidence  and  cordiality  I  lately  shewed  him,  can 
only  tend  to  infuse  into  his  mind  as  unfavourable  an 
opinion  of  my  temper  as  of  my  heart.  He  can  never 
know  whence  the  change  originated  ;  and  consequent- 
ly can  never  impute  it  to  any  better  cause  than  ver- 
satility and  fickleness  of  disposition." 

In  pursuance  of  these  reflections,  composing  her 
countenance  before  she  descended  to  supper,  and 
determining  to  meet  Somerset  with  all  the  friendly 
cheerfulness  in  her  power,  she  entered  the  parlour 
so  fully  expecting  to  find  him  there,  and  so  anxiously 
solicitous  to  prove  the  effect  of  her  newly  adopted 
plan,  that  when  she  found  he  was  already  gone— - 
gone  without  asking  to  see  her,  without  leaving  for 
her  the  slightest  message,  or  appearing  to  remember 
she  was  in  the  house — her  intended  exertions  w^ere 
forgotten,  her  spirits  again  failed  her,  and  heartless, 
desponding  and  afflicted,  she  took  her  place  in  utter 


52 

silence,  and  too  labsent  to  join  in  the  conversation, 
had  she  even  wished  it,  listened  to  all  Eltham's  gay 
rattle,  (for  he  still  remained)  with  the  most  insur- 
mountable and  involuntary  gravity,  and  the  first  mo- 
ment it  was  in  her  power,  hastened  back  to  her  own 
apartment. 

The  following  day  passed  without  any  remarkable 
occurrence,  unless  the  absence  of  Somerset,  whom  she 
had  hitherto,  since  his  return  from  sea,  rarely  omit- 
ted seeing  or  hearing  from  during  some  part  of  every 
day,  could  be  called  such.  Mrs.  Barclay,  after  sleep- 
mg  m  town,  returned  to  dinner  in  high  spirits  j  de- 
clared she  had  never  been  so  much  entertained; 
laughed  at  Clarentine  for  the  unaccountable  ttrror 
that  had  so  strangely  overpowered  her  at  the  play- 
house door  ;  and  finally,  received  a  very  tart  repri- 
mand  from  her  fair  daughter,  for  not  having  sent 
Mrs.  Watkins's  messenger  early  enough  to  allow  of 
her  getting  to  town  in  time  to  make  one  of  their 
party. 

The  mother  defended  herself  with  her  accustomed 
sangfroid^  and  the  daughter  persevered  in  her  com- 
plaints with  her  accustomed  querulousness,  till  Cla- 
rentine, equally  wearied  of  them  and  their  subject, 
took  up  her  work,  and  left  them  to  finish  the  dispute 
by  themselves. 

The  anxious  looks  of  Mr.  Lenham,  his  eagerness 
to  speak  to  her,  and  the  manifest  concern  and  dis- 
pleasure with  which  he  observed  her  sedulousness  to 
avoid  it,  gave  her  so  much  pain,  and  at  the  same 
time  embarrassed  her  so  cruelly  in  his  presence,  that 
towards  evening,  retiring  for  a  few  minutes  to  her 
own  room,  she  wrote  the  following  note,  and  deliver- 
ed it  to  him  unperceived,  as  they  were  rising  from 
tea — 

"  To  see  you,  my  dearest  Sir,  look  so  offended  and 
so  grave,  occasions  me  the  greatest  uneasiness.  I  ac- 
knowledge that  you  have  just  cause,  after  what  passed 


S3 

last  night,  to  resent  my  present  reserve,  since  for 
one  who  meant  to  say  no  more^  I  certainly  then  sard 
infinitely  too  much :  but  I  spoke  inconsiderately,  and 
at  that  moment  was  not  aware  of  the  strange  confi- 
dence to  which  I  seemed  to  be  leading.  Calmer  re- 
flections, dear  Sir,  have  taught  me  to  believe  you 
would  yourself  disapprove  my  proceeding  farther ; 
and  the  pain  that  it  would  give  to  your  benevolent 
mind,  to  know  the  true  source  of  my  concern  without 
possessing  the  power  of  alleviating  it,  would,  I  am 
certain,  induce  you  rather  to  contemn  than  applaud 
the  facility  with  which  it  was  revealed. 

"  Attempt  not  then,  dearest  sir,  to  discover  more 
plainly  the  secrets  of  this  wayward  heart ;  disturb 
not,  perplex  not  yourself  about  me.  I  am  unworthy, 
at  this  instant,  of  your  generous  attention.  When 
time,  however,  shall  have  restored  me  to  reason,  and 
I  can  look  back  upon  the  events  that  are  now  passing 
with  indifference  and  tranquillity,  then  will  I,  at  the 
same  moment  that  I  call  for  your  congratulations, 
teach  you  to  smile  at  my  former  folly,  and  join  with 
you  in  moralising  upon  the  instability,  as  well  of  hu- 
man happiness,  as  human  sorrow  !" 

This  billet,  though  it  quieted  not  all  Mr.  Lenham's 
uneasy  apprehensions,  softened  him  in  favour  of  the 
gentle  writer,  and  made  him  cautious  either  of  again 
questioning,  or  appearing  to  watch  her.  Tenderly 
solicitous  to  promote  her  happiness  ;  loving  her  as  a 
father  ;  and  anxious  by  every  possible  means  to  avert 
affliction  from  her,  it  is  not  to  be  supposed,  however, 
he  could  so  easily  relinquish  the  earnest  desire  he 
had  to  investigate  into  a  mystery  so  alarming,  and  so 
extraordinary.  His  observation  increased,  therefore, 
with  his  wish  to  conceal  it;  and  all  Clarentine's  fu- 
ture prudence,  all  her  care  and  her  discretion,  were 
scarcely  adequate  to  the  difficulty  of  evading  his  pen- 
etration. 

E2 


54 

She  had  now  steadily  adhered  to  her  new  plan  of 
conduct  for  some  days — treated  Somerset  with  all 
her  former  ease  and  complacency. — revived,  in  some 
measure,  his  wonted  cheerfulness — resumed  her  old 
habits — read,  walked,  and  conversed  with  him,  as  on 
his  first  arrival ;  and,  though  she  had  never  yet  been 
put  to  the  trial,  determined  even  when  alone  with 
him  to  behave  with  the  same  friendliness  and  unre- 
serve ;  when,  one  morning  soon  after  breakfast, 
whilst  she  was  sitting  by  herself  in  the  parlour,  he 
unexpectedly  entered,  but  stopping  short  on  perceiv- 
ing her,  seemed  to  hesitate  a  moment  whether  he 
should  advance,  and  then  shutting  the  door  slowly 
approached  her. 

"  I  have  wished,  my  dear  Miss  Delmington,  for 
some  time,"  said  he,  sitting  down  by  her,  and  after 
a  short  silence,  gravely  addressing  her,  "  to  have  a 
few  minutes  private  conversation  with  you.  Are 
you  at  leisure  now  ?  and  may  I  venture  to  speak  with 
all  the  sincerity  you  formerly  authorised  ?" 

Clarentine,  too  much  confounded  by  the  serious- 
ness of  his  looks  and  voice,  and  the  intelligible,  though 
gentle  reproach  his  last  words  conveyed,  to  be  able 
immediately  to  answer  him,  Somerset  perceiving  her 
embarrassment,  added  with  a  half  smile — 

"  What  is  it,  my  dearest  Miss  Delmington  appre- 
hends ?  Does  she  believe  me  so  very  a  censor  as  I 
was  described  to  her  ?  Does  my  austerity  so  much 
alarm  her,  that  she  even  fears  to  speak  to  me  ?" 

"  O  no,  no  !"  cried  Clarentine  with  quickness,  "  I 
am  ready,  I  am  anxious  to  hear,  and  to  answer  every 
question  you  can  ask.  I  have  no  fears  but  of  having, 
perhaps,  of  late,  too  justly  merited  your  disapproba- 
tion !" 

"  Discard,  discard  from  your  mind,"  cried  Somer- 
set, earnestly,  "  all  such  vain  and  causeless  terrors  ! 
To  disapprove  I  claim  no  right,  even  if  I  had  the 
will }  1  am  not  J  Miss  Delmington,  the  severe  and  ar- 


55 

bitrary  monitor  you  suspect !  Could  you  forget  that 
such  a  connexion  as  guardian  and  ward  subsisted  be- 
tween us,  and  view  me  only  as  a  brother  and  a  friend 
—a  friend  whom  in  former  times  you  used  to  trust— 

a  brother  whom  you  once,  I  believe,  loved then 

should  I  fearlessly  proceed,  and  frankly  avow  the 
motives  that  urged  me  to  request  this  conference." 

"  Proceed  then,  unhesitatingly,"  cried  Clarentine, 
with  warmth  ;  "  speak  with  the  certainty  of  being 
©nly  interpreted  as  you  could  wish  !" 

Softened  and  delighted  by  this  speech,  Somerset 
appeared  half  tempted  to  imprint  upon  the  hand  he 
held  a  kiss  of  gratitude  and  acknowledgment.  He 
restrained  himself,  however,  and  resuming  the  dis- 
course, in  a  tone  of  more  than  usual  gentleness  and 
kindness,  said — 

♦'  Could  I  describe  to  Miss  Delmington  the  anx- 
ious solicitude  with  which,  not  only  now  but  ever^  I 
have  wished  to  see  her  happy  ;  could  she  form  any 
idea  of  the  deep  and  animated  interest  I  take  in  all 
that  relates  to  her,  the  question  I  am  about  to  ask 
would  require  no  other  apology  than  the  affectionate 
sentiment  by  which  it  is  dictated  ;  as  she  can  have 
no  conception,  however,  of  that  sentiment — of  half 
its  zeal  and  fervour — -I  must  rely  upon  her  indul- 
gence, and  the  rectitude  of  my  own  intentions  for 
pardon." 

He  then  went  on  to  enquire,  for  Clarentine  was  to« 
much  agitated  to  interrupt  him,  with  all  the  consi- 
derate delicacy  the  subject  demanded,  how  long  she 
had  been  acquainted  with  Mr,  Eltham  ?  What  she 
believed  were  his  views  in  coming  so  frequently  to 
the  house,  and  paying  her  such  marked  attention?  and 
what  her  own  opinion  and  designs  respecting  him 
were  ? 

"  If,  my  lovely  friend,"  added  he,  **  you  have  any 
reason  to  suspect  him  of  being  a  mere  idle^?r^,  one 
of  those  despicable  and  presuming  coxcombs,  known 


56 

under  the  denomination  of  male-coquettes^  the  more 
speedily  you  authorise  either  Mr.  Lenham  or  me^ 
(in  my  formidable  capacity  of  Guardian)  to  discard 
him — or,  if  you  prefer  it,  the  more  speedily  you  an- 
nounce to  him  his  dismission  yourself,  the  more  just 
it  will  be  to  your  own  character.  If,  on  the  contra- 
ry, as  appears  far  more  probable,  his  designs  are  se- 
rious and  honourable,  and  are,  besides,  such  as  you  ap- 
prove, and  feel  willing  to  encourage,  the  sooner, 
through  the  interference  of  some  friend,  he  is  brought 
to  declare  them" — 

"  The  better  ?"'  asked  Clarentine,  interrupting 
him  in  a  faint  voice,  and  turning  extremely  pale, "  the 
better,  do  you  think,  Mr.  Somerset  ?" 

Somerset  changed  colour,  looked  irresolute  and 
disconcerted,  an4  casting  down  his  eyes,  after  a  short 
pause,  replied — 

"  I  acknowledge  myself  by  no  means  a  competent 
judge  in  this  case  either  of  the  better  or  the  worse. 
Your  own  heart.  Miss  Delmington,  must  determine 
for  you  J  and  if  I  have  presumed  too  far,  I  entreat 
your  forgiveness  ;  it  was  not,  you  will  believe,  I 
hope,  my  design  to  dictate  its  decision." 

"  O  no,"  cried  Clarentine  recovering  herself, 
"  that  I  am  persuaded  of ! — But  Sir,  before  we  drop 
this  subject — a  subject  painful  to  me  to  talk  upon 
and  I  am  sure,  by  no  means  pleasant  to  you,  further 
than  as  it  enables  you  to  prove  your  general  good 
wishes  and  concern  for  me — suffer  me  to  intreat  that 
on  no  account  whatever  you  will  speak  upon  it  to  Mr. 
Eltham.  All  that  I  may  wish  should  be  said,  I  will 
either  request  Mr.  Lenham  to  repeat  for  me,  or  un- 
dertake to  tell  him  myself!" 

Somerset  only  bowed ;  he  ventured  not  to  ask 
what  that  all  would  be,  neither  did  he  choose  to  pur- 
sue the  conversation.  After  a  short  interval,  therefore, 
rising,  and  taking  his  hat,  he  said  he  was  going  back 
to  town ;  asked  if  she  had  any  commands,  and  on  her 


57 
I* 
saying,  "  none,"  wished  her  good  morning  and  left 
the  room. 

"  To  what,"  thought  Clarentine,  when  he  was  gone, 
"  to  what  could  this  singular  conversation  tend  ? 
Does  he  really  wish  me  to  encourage  Eltham  ?  Were 
his  enquiries  only  meant  to  find  out  my  real  senti- 
ments concerning  him,  or  was  it  their  aim  to  prove  to 
me  that  he  was  ready  to  favour  another's  pretensions  ? 
Incomprehensible  Somerset !  In  voice,  in  looks,  so 
tender  and  so  anxious,  in  heart  so  regardless  and  so 
indifferent !  Oh,  why  address  me  in  language  so  flatter- 
ing, talk  to  me  of  his  solicitude^  his  affection^  and  his 
zeal,  and  at  the  same  moment,  by  the  tranquil  un- 
concern with  which  he  shews  himself  ready  to  resign 
me,  plant  a  dagger  in  my  breast !" 

During  the  remainder  of  the  day,  as  he  appeared 
no  more,  she  had  leisure  to  deliberate  with  herself 
concerning  the  part  she  had  now  to  act  with  Eltham. 
Superior  to  all  coquetry — unacquainted  indeed,  but 
by  report,  either  with  its  artifices  or  its  nature,  she 
found  no  difficulty,  as  it  was  her  decided  wish  to  be 
released  from  his  assiduities,  in  coming  to  the  reso- 
lution of  immediately  putting  an  end  to  them  ;  yet 
how,  in  her  own  person,  was  this  to  be  effected  ?  She 
could  not  tell  him  she  believed  him  to  be  in  love  with 
her— apprehended  he  had  formed  presumptuous  ex-* 
pectations — and  thought  it  her  duty  to  check  them  ! 
He  had  never  but  once  formally  avowed  himself— 
and  that  once,  the  only  time  his  language  at  any  pe- 
riod took  the  form  of  a  positive  declaration,  though 
he  had  proffered  to  her  his  hearty  his  fortune^  sworn 
even  to  dedicate  his  very  life  to  her  ;  his  handy  or  his 
faithy  had  never  been  comprised  in  the  enumeration ! 
To  treat  him,  consequently,  as  a  serious  pretender, 
would  be  absurd — would  be  almost  like  asking  for 
his  addresses,  and  telling  him  they  were  expected. 
All,  therefore,  that  she  had  to  do,  was  to  trust  the 
business  to  the  management  of  Mr.  Lenham  j  to  beg 


58 


him  in  his  own  name,  and  as  if  wholly  at  his  own  in- 
stigation,  to  represent  to  him  the  impropriety  of  his 
constant  visits,  and  to  declare  to  him,  very  positively 
that  they  could  no  longer  be  permitted.    '  ' 

A  commission  Mr.  Lenham  would  have  felt  him- 
self more  gladly  disposed  to  accept,  could  not  have 
been  devised.  Eltham's  wild  and  flighty  disposition  ; 
the  selfishness  and  indelicacy  with  which—solely  for 
his  own  amusement,  without  appearing  to  have  any 
determmate  object— he  pursued,  and  trifled  with  a 
young  woman  not  only  of  such  unimpeachable  char> 
acter,  but  also  of  such  respectable  connexions,  and 
such  modest  and  unequivocal  propriety  of  behaviour, 
had  long  off-ended  him  extremely  ;  it  was  therefore 
with  the  utmost  readiness  he  undertook  to  execute 
the  task  assigned  him,  the  very  first  time  Eltham 
again  came  to  the  house. 


CHAPTER  XII. 

THE  admiration  which  Miss  Barclay  had  con^ 
ceived,  even  from  the  first  hour  she  beheld  him,  for 
Mr.  Eltham  ;  the  veneration  she  had  for  his  splendid 
advantages  of  birth  and  fortune ;  the  striking  supe- 
riority of  his  fashionable  deportment,  and  easy  ad- 
dress over  those  of  everv  other  man  she  had  till  now 
conversed  with,  had  so  powerfuUy  operated  in  his  be- 
half, that,  without  its  being  necessary,  according  to 
Sophia's  advice,  for  Clarentine  to  interfere  in  the 
business,  she  had  indulged  (unchecked  either  by  her 
own  pride  or  hisneglect)  a  very  tender  though,hitherto 
It  must  be  acknowledged,  very  unprosperous  predilec- 
tionfor  him.  The  hard-hearted  and  persevering  indif- 
terence,  however,  with  which  she  daily  observed  that 
Clarentine  received  his  attentidns  ;  the  almost  posi- 
tive opinion  she  began  to  entertain  that  even  were  he  to 


59 

offer  himself  to  her  she  would  reject  him,  had  of  late 
infused  into  her  mind  a  faint  hope,  that,  by  pursuing 
with  him  the  same  conduct  Mrs.  Hertford  had  adopt- 
ed with  respect  to  Capt.  Somerset,  she  might  succeed, 
perhaps,  in  detaching  him  from  so  ungrateful  a  mis- 
tress, and  win  him  over  to  herself. 

It  now,  therefore,  became  her  constant  study,  by 
every  method  in  her  power,  to  attract  his  notice,  and 
engage  his  admiration  ;  her  dress,  her  language,  her 
attitudes,  her  very  voice  betrayed  the  anxiety  with 
which  she  not  only  prepared  for  his  arrival,  but  sought, 
when  he  was  present,  to  make  herself  conspicuous. 
Had  he  been  grave  and  reserved,  she  would  have  at- 
tempted to  appear  soft  and  pensive — as  it  was,  see- 
ing him  always  easy  and  careless  ;  often — to  her'at 
least, — impertinent ;  sometimes  negligent  and  indo- 
lent, at  others,  active  and  animated,  she  endeavour- 
ed to  model  her  own  character  upon  his,  and  by  turns 
to  imitate  every  change  that  either  accident  or  design 
produced  in  his  behaviour. 

When  Clarentine  was  not  present,  exclusively  to 
engross  his  attention,  there  were  moments  when,  in 
preference  to  sitting  wholly  unemployed,  he  would 
vouchsafe  with  an  air  of  condescension,  and  frequent- 
ly in  the  midst  of  a  yawn,  to  address  to  her  a  few  un- 
meaning exaggerated  compliments,  for  the  mere 
pleasure  of  seeing  her  look  languishing  and  affected. 
Once  or  twice,  he  had  even  given  himself  the  trouble, 
called  upon  by  her  repeated  though  indirect  challen- 
ges, to  romp  with  her  ;  and  after  tearing  her  clothes, 
tiring  and  overpowering  her,  (for  on  these  occasions 
he  was  seldom  extremely  gentle)  used  to  throw  him- 
self into  a  seat  very  composedly,  and  as  he  lounged 
back  in  his  chair,  amused  himself  with  laughing  at 
the  strange  plight  he  had  put  her  into,  and  the  dis- 
onsolate  figure  she  cut ! 

As  Miss  Barclay  neither  possessed  great  refine- 
ment, nor  great  penetration,  she  was  as  little  disposed 


60 

to  resent  his  freedom,  as  she  was  capable  of  discern- 
ing what  his  real  sentiments  concerning  her  were. 
All  she  aspired  to  was  his  attention  ;  and  proud  of 
obtaining  it  in  any  way  whatever,  to  the  more,  or  the 
less  respect  with  which  it  came  accompanied,  she  was 
totally  indifferent. 

It  was  on  the  third  day  after  Clarentine's  little  ex- 
planation with  Somerset,  that  at  his  usual  hour,  just 
as  the  family  had  met  to  tea,  Eltham,  for  the  first 
time  since  the  night  he  had  accompanied  her  from 
town,  made  his  appearance.  The  party  he  found 
assembled,  in  addition  to  Mr.  Lenham's  usual  in- 
mates, consisted  of  Mrs.  Denbigh,  and  Mrs.  Hert- 
ford. Somerset  had  been  there  before  dinner,  but 
went  away  in  less  than  an  hour. 

Clarentine's  reception  of  him,  as  at  all  other  times, 
was  civil,  but  quiet  and  composed.  Not  so  Miss 
Barclay  ;  her  eyes  danced  with  pleasure  the  moment 
he  entered ;  with  an  eagerness  and  officiousness  that 
made  even  Mrs.  Hertford  stare,  she  drove  young 
Blandford  from  the  tea-table,  and  disturbed  every 
body  else  at  it,  to  make  room  for  him  next  her  ;  look- 
ed at,  spoke  to  no  other  person  during  the  whole  time 
he  sat  by  her ;  and  in  short,  behaved  with  such  ex- 
treme folly  and  forwardness,  that  Eltham,  by  no 
means  the  last  to  perceive  it,  had  some  difficulty  more 
than  once,  to  forbear  laughing  in  her  face. 

As  soon  as  the  tea-things  were  removed,  Claren- 
tine,  who,  though  she  made  it  a  point  when  Mrs. 
Barclay  was  alone  to  sit  with  her  in  an  evening, 
thought  herself  exempted  from  this  necessity,  when 
the  contrary  was  the  case,  rose  to  leave  the  room  ; 
but  Eltham  abruptly  starting  up,  and  stepping  be- 
tween her  and  the  door,  said  in  a  low  and  supplica- 
ting voice,  as  she  still  advanced  towards  it— 

"  You  do  not  mean  to  consign  me  over  to  this  in- 
tolerable circle  the  whole  evening  ?" 

"  Intolerable  !"  repeated  Clarentine  in  the  same 


61 

tone,  "  Is  Mr.  Lenham,  is  Mrs.  Denbigh  intolera- 
ble r 

"  If  they  were  angels,"  answered  Eltham,  taking 
her  hand  to  lead  her  back,  "  when  you  are  gone,  I 
shall  wish  them  all  utterly  annihilated  !''  then  raising 
his  voice,  "  What  have  you  done,  my  dear  Miss  Del- 
mington,  with  your  harp  ?   Do  you  never  play  now  ?" 

"Yes,"  replied  Clarentine,  who  rather  than  occa- 
sion any  further  contention,  had  walked  back  to  her 
seat,  "  sometimes." 

"  Suppose,  my  young  friend,"  said  Mrs.  Denbigh, 
"  you  have  it  brought  down  this  evening,  and  at- 
tempt by 

"A  solemn  air,  and  the  best  comforter 
*'  To  an  unsettled  fancy,'** 

to  quiet  and  tranquillise  Mr.  Eltham  ?" 

*'  An  excellent  proposal ;"  cried  Mrs.  Hertford 
smiling,  "  though  one  that,  I  own,  seems  to  be  ap- 
plying to  Mr.  Eltham  something  too  much  of  the 
nature  of  the  Tarantula .'" 

'^  I  am  not,"  said  Eltham,  "  to  be  laughed  out  of 
my  purpose  ;  therefore.  Miss  Delmington,  suffer  me 
to  entreat  you  zvili  send  for  it,  or  permit — what  I 
should  still  prefer — my  attending  you  to  your  own 
apartment  to  hear  you." 

'^  A  modest  petition,  truly  !"  cried  Miss  Barclay 
sneeringly,  "  I  hope  Miss  Delmington  means  to  com- 
ply with  it." 

Clarentine's  only  answer  to  this  was  a  request 
that  Miss  Barclay,  who  sat  nearest  it,  would  ring  the 
bell  to  order  the  harp  down  stairs. 

It  was  soon  brought ;  and  Clarentine,  who  had  now 
taken  regular  lessons  of  a  master  for  some  time,  and 
really  played  with  admirable  taste  and  expression, 
astonished  and  charmed  Eltham  so  much  by  the  ex- 
traordinary progress  she  had  made  since  he  last  heard 

•  Tempest. 

Vol.  II.  F 


her  at  Sidmouth,  that  he  would  not  suffer  her  to  rise, 
till  the  repeated  yawns  of  Mrs.  Barclay,  and  the  loud 
talking  of  her  daughter,  warned  her,  by  immediately 
stopping,  not  to  lull*  the  one  to  sleep,  or  rouse  the 
other  to  impatience. 

Eltham  thanked  her,  when  she  got  up,  in  the  most 
animated  terms,  for  the  extreme  pleasure  she  had 
given  him,  and  was  proceeding  to  ask  her  some  ques- 
tions concerning  the  music  she  had  been  playing, 
when  Miss  Barclay  peevishly  interrupting  him  said— » 

"  I  fancy,  Mr.  Eltham,  you  would  not  be  so  fond 
of  such  dolorous  ditties  if  you  was'n't  in  love  ?" 

"  Every  body  stared,  and  Eltham,  after  a  moment 
of  astonished  silence,  said  with  a  forced  smile — - 

"  And  who  told  you,  my  fair  interrogator,  that  I 
■was  in  love  ?" 

"  O,  Lord,"  cried  she,  "  we  all  know  thaty  and  with 
tuho  too  I" 

Then  darting  an  angry  glance  at  Clarentine,  who, 
amazed  and  confounded,  stood  gravely  looking  at 
her,  with  her  usual  abruptness  when  any  thing  dis* 
composed  her,  she  left  the  room. 

A  dead  silence  succeeded  her  departure  for  some 
minutes  ;  Mrs.  Denbigh,  however,  who  sat  near  the 
fire  before  which  Eltham  was  standing,  at  length  in- 
terrupted it,  by  saying  to  him  in  a  low  voice,  and 
with  an  arch  smile^- 

"  If  your  heart  was  not  gone  already,  you  could 
have  no  chance  of  resisting  the  amiable  creature  who 
has  just  left  us  !" 

Eltham,  perft^ctly  regardless  of  the  presence  either 
of  her  mother  or  her  friend,  coolly  answered,  as  he 
leaned  negligently  back  against  the  side  of  the  chiip- 
ney*— ' 

"  Love  is  a  calmer,  gentler  joy, 
"Smooth  are  his  looks,  uid  soft  his  pace  ; 
*'  Her  Cupid  is  a  blackguard  boy, 
"And  runs  his  link  full  in  your  face  !" 


63 

This  ridiculous,  but  apt  quotation,  conquered  Uie 
gi-avity  not  only  of  Mrs.  Denbigh,  Mrs.  Hertford 
and  Clarentine,  but  even  of  Mr.  Lenham.  Mrs. 
Barclay,  however,  who,  thoughrshe  but  imperf-ctly 
understood  its  direct  tenour,  very  fully  comprehend- 
ed the  unfortunate  term  blackg-iiard^  and  felt  herself 
extremely  offended  by  it,  now  said  with  great  solem- 
nity— 

"  Let  me  tell  you,  Mr.  Elthanl,  these  are  very 
strange  liberties  to  take  before  me  ;  I  should  be  glad 
to  know  why  Lucy,  though  may-be  she  is  a  little  pet- 
tish sometimes,  should  be  called  such  low-lived  names 
as  them  ?  I'm  sure  she's  done  nothing  hlackguctrd 
by  you ;  and  as  for  talking  bf  links^  I  don't  know 
what  you  can  mean  by  it !" 

Eltham  bit  his  lips,  and  looking  dovm  as  if  appre- 
hensive his  laughing  eyes  would  betray  him,  said 
with  some  hesitation— 

*'  Upon  my  word,  my  dearest  madam,  you  totally 
misunderstood  me.  I  was  far  from  intending  any 
improper  allusion  to  Miss  Barclay,  be  assured  ;  there 
is  nobody  I  protest  to  you,  that  does  her  more  jus- 
tice— that  sees  her  real  merit  in  a  clearer  point  of 
view!"  ^. 

"  Well,  well,"  cried  Mrs.  Barclay,  somewhat  ap- 
peased by  this  very  satisfactory  apology,  "  we  won't 
say  any  more  about  it ;  I  suppose  you  did'n't  mean 
any  harm,  and  I  might  not  quite  make  out  what  you 
were  talking  of;  for,  to  tell  you  the  truth,  I  know 
but  little  of  these  matters,  and  never  was  over  and 
above  fond  of  poetry  and  verses  in  my  life." 

The  extreme  good  humour  and  credulous  simpli- 
city of  this  speech,  really  made  Eltham  half  repent 
having  ever  been  wicked  enough  to  say  any  thing 
that  would  give  her  pain.  He  renewed  his  excuses 
and  assurances  of  respect  with  infinitely  more  seri- 
ousness than  before  ;  and  then,  finding  himself  per- 
fectly restored  to  her  good  graces,  changed  the  sub- 
ject and  gave  the  conversation  a  more  general  turn. 


64 

When  he  was  rising  to  take  leave,  Mr.  Lenhanrr, 
authorised  by  an  intelligent  look  from  Clarentine, 
begged  the  favour  of  speaking  with  him  a  few  mi- 
nutes in  his  study.-  Eltham,  though  the  request 
seemed  to  surprise  him,  immediately  agreed  to  it, 
and  wishing  the  ladies  good  night,  took  up  his  hat 
and  followed  him. 

As  soon  as  they  were  gone,  Clarentine  apprehen- 
sive of  she  knew  not  what,  fearful  of  seeing  Eltham, 
should  he,  after  the  conference  was  over,  again  re- 
turn to  the  parlour  ;  half  wishing,  yet  half  dreading, 
to  hear  its  result ;  and  by  no  means  assured,  proud 
and  fiery  as  she  well  knew  he  could  be,  that  he  would 
not  break  out  into  some  act  of  extravagance  and  im- 
patience, put  up  her  work  in  haste  and  alarm,  and 
flew  for  refuge  to  her  own  room,  determined  not  to 
venture  down  again  till  positively  convinced  he  had 
left  the  house. 

In  less  than  half  an  hour,  young  Blandford  knock- 
ed at  her  door  to  tell  her  Mr.  Lenham  was  in  the 
parlour,  and  supper  was  ready. 

"  And  where  is  Mr.  Eltham  ?"  cried  Clarentine 
eagerly— 

"  On  his  road  to  London,  I  suppose,"  answered 
Blandford— 

"  He  is  not  below,  then  ? — not  in  the  parlour,  you 
are  sure  ?" 

"  Yes,  quite  sure  ;  he  has  never  been  there  since 
you  left  it." 

Clarentine  upon  this  opened  her  door,  and  telling 
Blandford  she  was  ready,  accompanied  him  down 
stairs. 

As  she  entered  the  supper-room,  Mr.  Lenham, 
she  perceived,  was  walking  slowly  about  it,  looking 
imusually  ^rave  and  thoughtful.  Every  body  else 
was  standing  round  the  table  waiting  for  him  to  sit 
down  :  he  seemed  not  to  observe  it,  however,  till 
Clarentine  appeared,  when  silently  taking  her  hand. 


65 

he  led  her  towards  her  accustomed  seat,  and  then 

walked  to  his  own.  riar^n 

Durinc  the  whole  time  they  were  at  table,  Claren- 
tine  watched  his  countenance  with  the  '"O^t  ^"•^■«»^ 
attention.  By  degrees  the  passing  cloud  that  had  . 
obscured  it  disparted  ;  he  looked  up  at  her  wuh  his 
wonted  friendly  cheerfulness;  joined  freely  in  the 
conversation,  and  before  they  rose  from  supper  seem- 
ed wholly  to  have  forgotten  the  little  chagrin  he  had 

'Thirchange  gave  her  inexpressible  pleasure;  yet 
still  eager  to  question  him,  contrary  to  tier  usual  cub- 
torn  sh!  lingered  below  till  almost  every  body  had 
quTtted  the  parlour,  and  then  as  he  was  l.ghtmg  his 
candle  to  go'^also,  softly  approached  h.m,  and  said  m 

^  u^Ma^Z  dear  sir,  attend  you  for  a  moment  to 

^°"'^Yesf  ^certainly,"  replied  he  ;   and  immediately 

went  out  with  her.  ^.    „     .    ,  >-i 

When  they  were  alone,  "  Well,  Sir,"  cried  Claren  • 
tine,  hesitatingly,  "how  did  your  conference  with 
Mr.  Eltham  terminate  ?  Amicably^  1  hope  , 

u  On  my  part,"  answered  Mr.  Lenham,  «  perfect-j 
ly  so ;  I  was  firm  yet  civil ;  and  when  I  saw  how  il 
his  pride  brooked  the  affront,  almost  tempted  to  feel 
sorry  for  him."  .       ^  , 

Clarentine  smiled—"  I  should  never  have  sup- 
posed," said  she,  "  Mr,  Lenham^s  pity  could  have 
been  called  forth  by  such  a  passion.— But  tt^l^me 
dear  Sir,"  added  she  more  gravely,  "has  he  promised 
to  discontinue  his  visits  in  future  ?— May  I  flatter 
myself  his  assiduities  are  entirely  at  an  end  . 

"  I  believe  you  may  ;  but  not  that  if  he  meets  with 
either  you  or  me  in  the  dark,  he  will  hesitate  to  cut 

our  throats."  .  t     .»    ^ 

«  Horrible  !"  exclaimed  Clarentir^)  "  wa&  he  tne« 

so  very  irascible  ?"•— 


F  2 


66 


ii 


"  against  Captain  sSett^I'''"""'^  turning  pale, 
liev;,  V  rv  dan^3°"'  ebulht.ons  are  never,  I  be- 

-ouunn^iiuK3t  oV"reVtr:r°/"'  '°"^'  ''^^y 

Christendom,   and  Mr    Fhh       f     ^°°«'tution  in 
"  ^n  his  calmer  moments  then.  Sir  "  askerl  rin..^ 

".  J:.?.l.t:S  .M'*a;:';.t'„r  "•'- 


67 

him  this  privilege  ?  Whether,  in  short,  I  thought  it 
just  to  /2?7??,  or  honourable  to  ijou  f"* 

"  Mr.  Eltham,"  cried  Clarentine,  a  little  indignant- 
ly, "  is' the  only  man  breathing,  I  believe,  who  know- 
ing horv  and  xvhere  that  promise  was  exacted,  would 
have  ventured  to  speak  of  it  to  you  as  of  one  that  he 
deserved  should  be  kept.  It  was  on  my  journey 
from  Sidmouth,  the  night  I  slept  at  Salisbury,  that, 
after  having  persecuted  and  frightened  me  till  I  was 
really  glad  to  come  to  any  compromise  whatever,  he 
drew  it  reluctantly  from  me,  upon  condition  he  con- 
sented immediately  to  quit  me.  This,  at  length  he 
did  ;  and  hitherto  it  has  been  solely  in  consideration 
of  that  engagement,  extorted  as  it  was,  I  have  ever 
permitted  him  to  see  me." 

"  All  this,  my  dear  young  lady,"  said  Mr.  Lenham, 
"  I  was  utterly  unacquainted  with  ;  consequently,  to 
his  serious  enquiry  had  very  little  more  to  say,  than 
that  I  would  speak  with  you  upon  the  subject,  and 
ask  whether  it  was  your  wish  the  promise  should  be 
continued  or  retracted.  *  If  Miss  Delmington,'  add- 
ed I,  *  consults  me  in  this  affair,  I  believe  Mr.  El- 
tham, you  know  what  my  advice  to  her  will  be. 
Should  you,  therefore,  hear  nothing  further  from  me, 
I  beg  what  I  have  now  said  may  be  looked  upon  as 
conclusive.'  Upon  this  he  arose,  made  me  a  very 
cavalier  bow,  and  departed."  ^ 

**  And  peace  go  with  him  .'"cried  Clarentine,  sigh- 
ing a  weight  of  care  off  her  breast,  "  I  sincerely  hope, 
that  as  mij  visitor,  at  least,  I  shall  see  him  here  no 
more." 

She  then  thanked  Mr.  Lenham  for  the  kindness 
with  which  he  had  undertaken  so  unpleasant  a  task, 
and  taking  leave  of  him  for  the  night,  retired  to  res*. 


68 


CHAPTER  XIIL 

SOMERSET,  disdaining  all  artifice  himself, 
frank,  honourable,  and  noble-minded,  suspected  not 
that  it  was  in  human  nature,  unless  sunk  to  the  lowest 
depth  of  depravity,  to  dissemble  by  system,  and  de- 
ceive upon  principle.  Clear-sighted  and  discerning 
in  perceiving  merit,  he  was  backward  in  discovering 
errors ;  and  while  it  was  possible  to  believe  any  ac- 
tion might  have  a  right  motive,  obstinate  in  not  im- 
puting to  it  a  -wrong  one.  In  courage^  in  understand- 
ing, in  fortitude  a  man — in  heart  and  disposition  he 
was  still  a  child.  The  blunt  unpolished  beings  with 
whom  he  had  been  accustomed  to  associate,  though 
they  had  infused  into  his  character  no  portion  of  their 
roughness,  had  maintained  in  it  and  nourished  all  its 
genuine  simplicity  ;  and  neither  taught  him  the  ne- 
cessity of  disguise,  or  the  advantages,  of  distrust. 
In  favour  of  another,  whom  he  wished  to  serve,  he 
could  be  vigilant  and  obiservant ;  in  all  that  related  to 
himself  he  was  credulous  and  unguarded.  Compas- 
sionate, kind  and  friendly,  whoever  he  saw  unhappy 
he  sought  to  relieve  ;  whoever  he  believed  deserving 
he  sought  to  conciliate. 

A  character  thus  open,  thus  undesigning  and  libe- 
ral, it  required  far  less  address  than  Mrs.  Hertford 
possessed,  to  work  upon  and  influence.  Quick  in 
penetrating  every  thought  of  his  honest  heart,  and 
skilful  in  tracing  every  avenue  that  led  to  its  approach, 
she  began  her  operations  with  a  sagacity,  a  cool  de- 
liberate policy,  that  might  have  done  credit  to  the 
noble  principal  whose  agent  she  had  condescended  to 
become.  It  was  not  Somerset's  affection  she  sought, 
or  even  expected  to  obtain  ;  she  knew  too  well  which 
way  the  wishes  of  his  soul  pointed,  to  have  any  hopes 
of  directing  them  towards  herself  j  the  artless  and 
unconscious  Clarentine — Clarentine  whose  congenial 


69 

tiiincl  so  well  accorded  with  his  own,  she  was  per- 
suaded engrossed  them  wholly.  Still, however,  with 
such  a  man  she  had  hopes  of  succeeding  ;  it  was  yet 
possible  to  interest  his  compassion,  excite  his  pity, 
though  she  procured  not  his  love  ;  and,  as  to  his  for- 
tune only,  his  rank  in  life  and  independence  she  as- 
pired, the  feelings  to  which  she  might  be  indebted 
for  his  hand,  were  to  her  indifferent. 

When  at  Portsmouth  just  before  her  marriage,  she 
had  first  seen  him,  cold-hearted,  and  self-interested 
as  she  was,  she  had  been  unable  to  defend  herself 
from  experiencing  an  involuntary  sentiment  of  admi- 
ration in  his  favour.  The  noble,  graceful  and  unaf- 
fected dignity  of  his  deportment ;  the  interesting  ex- 
pression of  mingled  animation  and  sweetness  that 
characterised  his  countenance  ;  the  gentleness  of  his 
manners  ;  the  good-sense,  good-humour  and  spirit  of 
his  conversation,  it  was  impossible  wholly  to  disre- 
gard. Even  Mrs.  Hertford  felt  the  influence  of  quali- 
ties so  amiable  and  so  striking;  she  felt  it,  however, 
without  any  diminution  of  her  tranquillity  ;  and  had 
Somerset,  at  that  time  dependent  upon  a  mercenary 
father,  offered  himself  to  her  at  the  very  moment  her 
partiality  for  him  was  the  greatest,  Mr.  Hertford, 
wholly  his  own  master,  and  said  to  be  very  affluent, 
would  have  been  unhesitatingly  preferred. 

Yet  anxious  to  reserve  to  herself  the  power,  when- 
ever Somerset  returned,  of  rehewing  her  acquaint- 
ance with  him — pleased  with  the  prospect,  though 
now  married,  of  being  followed  and  attended  by  him, 
she  most  assiduously  courted,  (in  remembrance  of  their 
near  relationship  to  Mr.  Lenham,  Somerset's  best  and 
earliest  friend,)  the  intimacy  of  Mrs.  and  Miss  Bar- 
clay, during  the  whole  time  she  remained  in  Eng- 
land. From  them,  wherever  he  might  fix,  she  hoped 
to  hear  of  him  :  but  long  before  his  first  voyage  was 
over,  those  hopes  were  for  a  while  driven  from  her 
recollection  by  the  alarming  derangement  of  her  hus- 


70 

band^s  affairs,  and  the  melancholy  necessity  that  drove 
them  both  to  the  continent. 

Returning  at  the  end  of  her  long  exile  as  penniless, 
as  destitute,  as  when  the  infatuated  Hertford  first 
chose  her  for  his  ruin ;  disappointed  in  her  ambi- 
tious projects  of  forming  a  second  establishment 
abroad,  and  hopeless  among  those  by  whom  she  was 
too  well  known  to  form  one  in  England,  her  thoughts 
again  reverted  to  that  Somerset,  whom  having  seen 
only  by  accident  she  had  hitherto  seen  without  seri- 
ous design  ;  but  whom  now,  persuaded  he  could  have 
heard  nothing  of  her  former  conduct,  and  assured  she 
could  only  have  excited  in  him  sentiments  that  were 
favourable  to  her  purpose,  she  determined  to  pursue, 
and  whether  still  in  expectation  or  already  in  abso- 
lute  possession  of  his  father's  property,  to  captivate 
and  conquer. 

Her  first  eager  enquiries  after  him  were  answered 
by  Miss  Barclay,  with  the  welcome  information  that 
his  arrival  was  hourly  looked  for,  and  his  delay  ex- 
tremely wondered  at.  The  same  letter  brought  her 
intelligence  that  Clarentine  Delmington,  the  orphan 
relation  and  favourite  they  had  both  heard  him  speak 
of  so  partially,  was  upon  the  point  of  taking  up  her 
future  residence  at  his  late  tutor's,  and  meant  to  set 
out  for  Hampstead  in  the  course  of  a  very  short  time. 
She  was  then  at  Sidmouth ;  and  Mrs.  Hertford,  as 
desirous  to  conciliate  her  favour,  as  she  was  from 
the  same  motives  to  cultivate  that  of  the  Barclays, 
sought  with  such  diligent,  though  ineffectual  assidui- 
ty to  establish  an  intimacy  with  her,  that,  had  suspi- 
cion been  a  weed  of  native  growth  in  the  mind  of 
Clarentine,  those  assiduities  alone  would  have  been 
sufficient  to  have  fed  and  cherished  it.  Innocent, 
however,  and  candid,  little  as  she  felt  disposed  to 
love  Mrs.  Hertford,  she  permitted  not  herself  literally 
to  distrust  her  till  after  the  first  conference  she  held 
concerning  her  with  Eltham.     Often  had  she  since 


71 

endeavoured  to  erase  that  conference  from  her  re- 
membrance, particularly  from  the  moment  she  found 
Somerset  spoke  favourably  of  her,  and  Mr.  Lenham 
seemed  to  regard  her  with  esteem  ;  but  the  palpable 
artifices  (palpable,  at  least,  to  the  keen  discriminating 
eye  of  jealousy)  with  which  she  had  now  during  so 
many  weeks  seen  her  studying  to  recommend  her- 
self to  the  one,  and  to  conceal  her  designs  from  the 
other,  had  at  length  so  wholly  conquered  Clarentine's 
generous  scruples,  that  she  never  beheld  her  without 
experiencing  a  sensation  bordering  upon  disgust  and 
horror. 

Yet  the  success  that  had  hitherto  attended  Mrs. 
Hertford's  schemes  had  neither  been  very  flattering 
to  her  vanity,  nor  very  cheering  to  her  hopes  ;  her 
soi  disant  passion,  though  acknowledged  with  an 
honest  sincerity  for  which  she  seemed  to  expect  great 
credit,  to  its  pretended  object,  whom  she  found  im- 
penetrable to  mere  hints  and  looks,  had  till  now  ap- 
peared to  create  in  him  only  perplexity  and  uneasi- 
ness. He  frankly  confessed  to  her,  and  his  confes- 
sion -was  honest,  that  his  heart  was  no  longer  his 
own  ;  that  he  felt  for  her  the  truest  admiration,  the 
utmost  gratitude  and  the  liveliest  friendship  j  but 
could  never  hope  to  repay  the  distinction  with  which 
she  honoured  him  with  any  sentiments  more  fervent. 
Mrs.  Hertford  sighed,  heard  him  with  blushes  and 
with  tears ;  protested  his  happiness  was  so  much  dearer 
to  her  than  her  own^  that  could  she  but  once  see  it  se« 
cured  she  cared  not  what  fate  might  await  her;  sup- 
plicated the  continuance  of  his  regard  ;  claimed  even 
his  compassion,  and  ended  by  declaring  she  would 
never  mention  her  unfortunate  predilection  to  him 
more. 

The  next  day,  however,  the  day  following,  and 
every  day  she  could  speak  to  him  apart,  the  samp 
suhjtct  was  revived,  the  same  protestations  poured 
ferth,   the  same  lamentations   indulged  !  Somerset, 


72 

confounded,  distressed,  often  weaned,  sometimes  an- 
swered her  with  the  most  respectful  seriousness,  at 
others,  gently  rallied  her  upon  the  unmerited  conde- 
scension with  which  she  treated  him,  and  besought 
her  for  both  their  sakes  to  forbear  renewing  a  con- 
versation he  grieved  to  say  was  so  useless,  and  was 
certain  must  be  so  humiliating. 

Mrs.  Hertford  upon  these  occasions  had  the  art  to 
conceal  her  consternation  under  the  more  touching 
semblance  of  sorrow  and  despair.  Sometimes  also 
she  would  talk  to  him  openly  of  Clarentine  ;  insinu- 
ate that  she  had  discovered  her  to  be  the  object  of 
his  attachment,  and  with  that  species  of  guarded 
warmth  so  necessary  in  order  to  avoid  all  appearance 
of  affectation,  speak  to  him,  as  if  involuntarily,  of 
her  beauty  and  her  merit,  and  dwell  with  modest  can- 
dour upon  the  many  reasons  she  had  to  fear  such  a 
rival,  without  being  able  to  discover  one  that  could 
justify  her  in  seeking,  even  if  she  had  the  power,  to 
detach  him  from  her. 

Penetrated  by  this  generosity,  charmed  from  what- 
eve'r  quarter  to  hear  the  praises  of  one  his  heart  so 
fondly  cherished,  Somerset,  no  longer  languid,  no 
longer  absent,  listened  with  an  avidity  and  a  delight 
to  all  she  said  upon  the  subject  of  Clarentine,  that 
convinced  her  sagacious  rival  she  had  at  length  dis- 
covered a  never-failing,  though  a  borrowed  magnet 
of  lasting  attraction.  The  hope,  towards  its  close,  of 
hearing  that  beloved  name  coupled  with  praise,  made 
him  patiently  attend  to  all  that  in  the  early  part  of 
every  conversation  was  irksome  or  embarrassing. 
His  friendship,  his  concern  for  Mrs.  Hertford  redou- 
bled ;  and  as  Clarentine's  reserve  increased,  the  only 
consolation  he  seemed  to  find  was  in  the  sympathising 
pity  of  htr  gentle  competitor. 

It  had  once  been  Mrs.  Hertford's  plan  to  infuse 
into  his  mind  a  jealous  distrust  of  Eltham  ;  that, 
however,  as  it  was  impossible  to  eifect  it  without  be- 


ing  often  subject  to  seeing  Eltham  herself,  she  very 
soon  relinquished  all  idea  of,  dreading  no  one's  re- 
marks or  observations  so  much.  Arch  and  signifi- 
cant as  Eltham  had  often  looked  when  witnessing  her 
attentions  to  Somerset ;  thoughtless,  flighty,  and  un- 
governable as  he  was,  he  might,  either  designedly  or 
by  accident,  reveal  so  many  things  it  was  her  interest 
to  keep  secret,  that  she  trembled  every  hour  at  the 
consequences  of  his  perpetual  visits.  To  check  there- 
fort,  or,  if  possible,  entirely  to  put  an  end  to  them, 
she  described  him  to  Somerset  as  a  man,  who,  under 
the  appearance  of  careless  gaiety,  concealed  such  li- 
centious principles,  such  determined  libertinism,  that 
b.e  was  by  no  means  a  proper  character  to  be  admitted, 
where  there  was  a  young  woman  so  inexperienced 
and  attractive  as  Clarentine,  upon  such  familiar  and 
intimate  terms.  The  very  partiality  she  had,  whilst 
at  Sidmouth,  suspected  Clarentine  to  entertain  for 
him,  she  now  changed  into,  what  she  had  since  per- 
ceived it  really  was,  embarrassment  and  apprehen- 
sion ;  spoke  of  the  uneasiness  she  was  sure  his  pre- 
sence often  gave  her  with  concern  and  pity,  and  urged 
Somerset  to  consult  her  upon  the  subject,  and  endea- 
vour, as  quietly  as  he  could,  to  relieve  her  from  such 
wearisome  importunities. 

Yet  whilst  thus  anxious  to  deliver  herself  from  El- 
tham as  a  spy  upon  her  own  actions,  she  deeply  la- 
mented the  necessity  she  was  under  at  the  same  time 
of  removing  him  as  a  rival  from  Somerset.  What 
could  she  now  hope  would  prevent  his  seeking  an  ex- 
planation with  Clarentine  of  her  late  coldness  ?  and 
when  that  was  explained,  what  could  she  hope  would 
longer  separate  and  disunite  them  ?■ — These  questions 
were  difficult  to  resolve  ;  Mrs.  Hertford,  however, 
fertile  in  expedients,  did  resolve  them,  and  fixed  upon 
a  means  of  division  she  wisely  concluded  would  be 
infallible. 

YoL,  IL  G 


•      '  74 

Deeply  versed  in  the  art  of  investigating  the  cha- 
racters of  all  those  whom  either  her  interest  or  her 
inclination  induced  htir  to  court,  and  equally  dexte- 
rous in  knowing  how  to  select  from  each  the  differ- 
ent qualities  that  could  best  be  applied  to  her  own 
service,  it  was  not  long  before,  in  the  delicate,  disin- 
terested, but  of  late,  somewhat  irritable  mind  of  Cla- 
rentine,  she  discovered  feelings  upon  which  she  might 
as  successfully  operate  as  upon  the  unsuspecting  li- 
berality of  Some  rse^t. 

From  Clarentine  in  person,  then,  she  was  deter- 
inined  the  final  crush  of  Somerset's  future  hopes 
should  come  ;  but  as  she  had  great  reason  to  believe 
Eltham,  finding  himself  banished  from  her  presence 
upon  any  other  terms,  would,  rather  than  lose  her 
without  a  struggle,  renew  his  assiduities  upon  the 
professed  and  honourable  footing  of  an  avowed  pre- 
tender to  her  hand,  she  waited  to  begin  her  machina- 
tions till  she  saw  w^hether  her  suspicions  were  reali- 
sed, and  whether  Clarentine  herself  consented  to  ac- 
cept him. 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

MRS.  HERTFORD  was  too  good  a  judge  of  the 
human  heart  to  be  often  in  danger  of  forming  wrong 
conclusions.  A  week  had  scarcely  elapsed  since  the 
dismission  of  Eltham,  when  one  morning  before  Cla- 
rentine was  up,  the  following  letter  from  him,  said  to 
be  brought  by  one  of  his  grooms  on  horseback,  was. 
delivered  to  her. 

MISS  DELMINGTON. 

"  Barbarous,  tyrannical  and  unpitying  Clarentine  ! 
Tell  me,  was  it  by  your  stem  decree  I  received  so 


75 

insulting  a  prohibition  ?  Gentle  and  merciful  as  you 
are  to  others,  why  ever  thus  inexorable  to  me  ?  Oh ! 
if  1  dared  give  utterance  to  half  my  indignation 
against  you — against  the  cold-blooded,  phlegmatic 
politicians  who  surround  you,  how  madly  I  could 
rave  and  imprecate  ! 

"  With  a  woman's  form,  with  every  attractive 
grace,  every  fascinating  charm  the  loveliest  woman 
can  boast,  you  possess,  unfeeling  Clarentine,  the  cal- 
lous, the  impenetrable  nature  of  a  rock !  Did  you 
even  take  the  trouble  to  seek  ^  prete/ice  for  d'lsc^rdinQ 
me  ?  Did  you  by  one  alleviating,  one  warning  sen- 
tence prepare  me  for  my  doom  ?  No  ;  you  stabbed 
nie  by  surprise  ;  chose  the  very  moment  when,  most 
implicitly  relying  upon  your  once  promised  confi- 
dence and  friendship,  I  thought  myself  secure  and 
unendangered.  What  a  time  to  select  for  such  a 
blow  !  It  came  upon  me  with  the  sudden  shock  of  an 
unexpected  and  resistless  thunder-stroke  ;  and  but 
that  a  wQ7nan  was  its  cause — that  a  ruomaii's  haiiddX- 
rected  it,  scarce  could  it  have  appeared  to  me  possi- 
ble or  real  ! 

"  You  will  tell  me,  perhaps — if  indeed  you  think 
it  vvorth  while  to  attempt  any  extenuation  of  an  act 
so  inhuman,  that  it  was  not  performed  at  your  insti- 
gation: credulity  itself,  however,  could  give  no  faith 
to  sucii  an  assurance.  Who  would,  who  ought  to 
hazard  so  arbitrary  a  proceeding  without  your  con- 
currence ?  Oh,  Clarentine  !  I  know  you  too  well — I 
fear  also  I  know  too  well  the  actual  state  of  }  our  re- 
lentless heart,  to  entertain  any  doubt  of  the  read'/ 
participation  you  gave  to  the  whole  business. 

"  AV'ould  to  heaven  I  had  never  seen  you !  never 
indulged  the  fatal  propensity  that  led  me  to  seek  such 
dangerous  society  !  From  the  hour  I  first  knew  you 
I  may  truly  say  I  have  never  enjoved  a  single  day's 
uninterrupted  tranquillity.  I  am  sick  of  such  an  ex- 
istence :  and  after  this  one,  this  final  effort  to  induce 


76 

vou  to  soften  its  wretchedness,  am  determined,  it'  it 
iails,  to  shun  you  during  the  remainder  of  mv  life  » 

"Asa  friend,  dearest  Clarentine,  you  reject  me  ; 
as  a  lover  you  repulsed  and  scorned  me  ;  as  a  pro- 
tector you  distrusted  me:  yet,  fairest  and  best  of  hu- 
man  beings  !  as  a  friend,  a  protector,  a  lover,  all  in 
one— as  the  partner  of  your  future  life,  the  grateful 
sharer  of  all  your  joys,  the  participator  and  soother 
of  all  your  cares— as  the  man,  in  short,  whom  the 
most  mdissoluble  ties  have  bound  to  you  at  the  altar 
the  most  fervent  affection  attached  to  you  for  ever' 
will  you  yet,  oh  gentlest  Clarentine  !  will  you  vet 
vouchsafe  to  receive  me  ? 

"  Artless  and  generous  as  you  are,  I  know  that 
from  suspense  or  delay  I  have  nothing  to  apprehend  : 
I  can  support  neither :  decide  then  upon  my  fate,  hut 
with  the  same  mercy,  as  you  will  with  frankness  ;  and 
m  the  happiest  of  men,  and  the  most  ardent  of  admi- 
rers, expect  soon  to  behold  your  faithful  and  devoted, 

"  George  Eltham." 

The  surprise,  and  sometimes  even  anger  of  Cla- 
rentine whilst  reading  this  strange  rhapsody,  could 
only  be  equalled  by  the  impatience  she  felt  to  answer 
it.^  Rising  therefore  immediately,  and  dressing  her- 
self in  haste,  she  sat  down,  and  without  a  moment's 
deliberation  wrote  the  following  reply  : 

GEORGE  ELTHAM,  ESQ. 

*«^  Yen  were  right.  Sir,  in  doing  me  the  justice  to  be- 
lieve, that  on  a  subject  like  the  one  upon  which  you 
have  been  pleased  to  address  me,  I  should  make  it  a 
point  not  to  keep  you  an  instant  in  suspense. 

"  Accept  then.  Sir,  my  best  thanks  for  the  honour 
of  your  good  opinion,  but  permit  me,  positively  and 
for  ever,  to  decline  availing  myself  of  it. 

"  I  have  the  honour  to  be,  your  grateful  and  ob- 
liged humble  servant, 

''  Clarentine  Delmin.gton."' 


77 

Of  this  answer,  though  she  kept  no  copy,  it  was 
not  difficult  on  her  descending  to  breakfast,  and  find- 
ing Mr.  Lenham  alone  in  the  parlour,  to  give  him  a 
faithful  account,  at  the  same  time  that  she  shewed 
him  the  letter  that  had  occasioned  it. 

"  It  is  well,"  said  Mr.  Lenham,  returning  it  to  her 
after  he  had  read  it,  "  it  is  well  and  happy  for  this 
\oung  man  he  has,  at  length,  met  with  a  friend  ho- 
nest and  independent  enough  to  give  him  such  a  les- 
son. Naturally  arrogant,  and  rendered  still  more 
so  by  the  unlimited  prosperity  that  has  attended  him 
through  life,  he  seems  to  think  the  world  was  made 
to  bow  down  before  him.  Pain  or  uneasiness,  being 
almost  a  stranger  to  the  verv  name  of  either,  he  sup- 
ports with  a  proud  impatience  that  irritates  their 
smart,  and  gives  fierceness  rather  than  sorrow  to  his 
complaints.  Whilst  he  could  see  }ou  as  often  as  he 
wished,  talk  to  you  of  his  passion,  and  apprehend  no 
other  impediments  to  his  visits  and  importunities  than 
your  soft  and  gentle  remonstrances,  he  was  happy, 
because  unrestrained.  Tour  peace,  your  tranquillity, 
he  thought  not  of;  nor  would  this  offer,  he  acknow- 
ledges it  himself,  ever  have  been  made  but  to  relieve 
his  ow^n  inquietude." 

"  I  fancy,"  said  Clarentine  smiling,  "  it  was  his 
intention  to  do  me  a  great  deal  of  unmerited  honour  ; 
-since,  having  once  declared  himself,  he  seems  to 
think  that  a  sufficient  retribution  for  every  offensive  and 
passionate  expression  contained  in  the  rest  of  his  let- 
ter, and  dreams  not  of  making  any  further  apology." 

Just  then  the  door  opened,  and  Mrs.  and  Miss 
Barclay  entered  to  breakfast. 

It  was  not  long  now  before  Mrs.  Plertford,  having 
obtained  information  of  this  whole  transaction,  begun 
her  plan  of  operations. 

Bringing  her  work  one  morning,  as  was  frequently 
her  practice,  and  establishing  herself  as  soon  as  break- 
fast was  over  in  Mr.  Lenham's  parlour,  she  happen- 
G  2 


78 

ed  accidentally  to  be  left  alone  with  Clafentine,  who, 
absent  and  thoughtful,  was  leaning  in  unusual  inacti- 
vity over  the  back  of  a  chair,  opposite  one  of  the 
windows. 

After  a  short  silence,  during  which  Mrs.  Hertford, 
discontinuing  her  employment,  sat  attentively  observ- 
ing her,  she  at  length  said,  in  a  tone  of  kindness  and 
concern — 

"  What  is  the  matter,  my  dear  Miss  Delmington  ? 
I  have  remarked  for  some  time  past  with  infinite  re- 
gret, that  the  cheerfulness  and  animation  which  dis- 
tinguished you  when  I  first  came  hither,  has  totally 
disappeared,  and  given  way  to  an  air  of  melancholy 
painful  to  behold." 

Raising  her  eyes  at  the  beginning  of  this  speech, 
but  vv'ithout  changing  her  attitude,  Clarentine  fixed 
them  with  the  most  steady  and  unmoved  composure 
upon  Mrs.  Hertford's  face,  and  after  a  moment's  pause 
replied — 

"  I  expected  not,  madam,  to  have  excited  in  your 
breast  an  interest  so  generous  concerning  me.  You 
are  extremely  good,  and  I  feel  grateful  for  your  en- 
quiries, but  must  be  excused  answering  them." 

She  would  then  have  quitted  the  room,  but  Mi». 
Hertford,  recovering  from  the  momentary  conster- 
nation a  coldness  so  repulsive  had  occasioned,  called 
her  back  as  she  was  opening  the  door,  and  hastily 
-said — 

"  Allow  me,  Miss  Delmington,  if  you  are  not  par- 
ticularly engaged  this  morning,  to  request  the  favour 
of  five  minutes  conversation  with  you." 

Clarentine,  still  grave  and  frigid,  yet  evidently- 
much  surprised,  slowly  turned  back,  and  drawing  a 
chair  towards  the  table,  seated  herself  without  speak- 
ing— 

"  I  know  not,  Miss  Delmington,"  said  Mrs.  Hert- 
ford, at  length  forcing  herself  to  begin,  "  whether 
the  cotifidence  with  which  I  am  about  to  trouble  you 


1 


79 

■\vill  appear  deserving  your  attention,  but  the  predi- 
cament in  which  I  stand  renders  it  necessaiy,  that, 
to  ensure  my  future  peace  of  mind,  I  should  now  be 
explicit  and  unreserved  with  you." 

"  I  am  ready,  madam,"  said  Clarentine  involunta- 
rily dreading  some  latent  artifice,  "  to  hear  all  you 
may  wish  to  communicate." 

^'  You  are  very  good,  and  give  me  courage  to  go 
on.  I  will  frankly  confess  to  you  then  Miss  Del- 
mington,  that,  the  worth,  the  spirit,  the  generosity  of 
our  mutual  friend.  Captain  Somerset  (Here  Claren- 
tine  turned  pale  and  almost  started)  has  made  an  im- 
pression npon  my  heart,  too  deep  to  be  easily  effaced, 
I  knew  him  before  my  marriage,  and  even  then, 
though  I  entertained  not  for  him  the  same  senti- 
ments a  longer  acquaintance  has  brought  on,  thought 
him  one  of  the  best  and  most  amiable  of  men.  This 
partiality,  however,  this  admiration,  grateful  to  me 
as  it  is  to  indulge,  I  have  for  some  time  struggled 
anxiously  to  repress  and  conquer.  A  suspicion — 
rnay  I  tell  you,  my  sweet  friend,  of  what  nature  ?  a 
suspicion  the  most  agonising  and  painful  has  haunted 
and  pursued  me,  and  till  from  your  own  lips  I  hear 
it  refuted  or  confirmed,  I  can  know  neither  rest  or 
peace." 

Too  well  foreseeing  what  was  coming,  Clarentine 
abruptly  arose,  and  again  moving  towards  the  door, 
said — 

"  The  suspicions,  Madam,  whatever  they  may  be, 
which  you  entertain  concerning  me,  I  have  no  wish 
to  hear  explained  :  act,  therefore,  I  intreat,  as  if  they 
had  never  occurred  to  you,  and  accept  my  best  wishes 
for  the  recovery  of  that  peace  they  have  been  the 
means  of  interrupting." 

She  would  then,  with  a  calm  dignity  that  almost 
over-awed  even  the  intrepid  Mrs.  Hertford,  have  im- 
mediately left  the  room,  but  again  supplicating  her 
to  return,  she  cried — 


80 


•  ?^r^^r^^'  ^^^^  ""^^  ^^^^  ^"d  generous  Claren- 
tme  !  My  fate  is  in  your  hands :  decide  for  me  what 
It  shall  be,  and  keep  me  not  longer  in  this  torturing 
suspense  Tell  me,"  added  she  she,  with  quick- 
ness, "  tell  me,  do  you  love  Somerset  ?" 

Clarentine's  cheeks  glowed  with  resentment,  and 
her  whole  frame  trembled  with  agitation  as  she  dis- 
damfully  rephed — 

u-  ll^^^l"?  }'^''^  ^^^P^^'  Madam,  that  the  reserve 
which  has  hitherto  subsisted  between  us  would  have 
precluded  the  possidiliti^  of  your  ever  asking  a  ques- 
tion    which,  even  from  a  bosom  friend  or  a  sister 
would  be  indelicate  and  unwarrantable."  ' 

"  You  will  not  answer  me  then  ?  vou  will  not  so 
much  as  tell  me  whether  by  accepting  Somerset's 
faith  I  wrong  or — " 

"Good  God!"  interrupted  Clarentine,  "do  you 
beheve.  Madam,  I  would  restrain  vou,  /would  with- 
hold you  ?  O  no  !  If  Mr.  Somerset  has  offered  him- 
self to  your  acceptance,  if  it  is  his  design  to  become 
yours,  make  him  but  as  happy  as  he  is  deserving  and 
be  assured  I  have  no  other  wish." 

"Excellent,  noble  creature!''  exclaimed  Mrs. 
Hertford  with  energy,  "  How  do  I  honour  the  force 

of  mind  which  can  thus  prompt  you  to  renounce " 

Again  Clarentine,  though  with  less  perturbation 
interrupted  her—"  You  have  extremely  mistaken  my 
sentinients.  Madam,"  said  she,  "  I  renounce  nothing? 
for  I  have  had  no  pretensions  ;  I  exert  no  force  of 
viznd,  for  I  have  had  no  weakness  to  conquer.  Praise 
so  humiliating,  therefore,  I  must  request  to  he 
spared." 

"  You  amaze  and  you  delight  me  !"  cried  Mrs 
Hertford.  «  So  wholly,  indeed,  had  I  mistaken  you," 
that,  attributing  as  well  your  late  depression  as  your 
refusal  of  Mr.  Eltham  to  the  same  cause,  hoping  to 
serve  you,  I  ventured,  however  cautiously,  to  in- 
sinuate my  suspicions  to— Somerset  himself." 


31 


With  a  start  that  was  almost  frantic,  and  a  look  at 
once  wild  and  indignant,  Clarcntine  tremulously  re- 

^TrrSomersetJ  you  had  the  cruelty,  the  unfemU 
nine,  merciless  cruelty  to  repeat  such  conjectures  to 
C;«.i.'Oh  speak,"  addedshe  with  qu.cknes5,"tell 

-':.  SttSr^s^c'replied  Mrs.  Hertford  ;is 
the  least  vain  of  any  man  I  know  :  he  might  have  his 

'°"'oh'he7vens!"  exclaimed  Clarentuie  sinking 
upon  a  chair,  and  covering  her  face  with  her  hand- 
kerchief in  an  agony  of  shame  and  mortification, 
u  Wh't  is  it  you  have  done  !  why  raise  such  msult- 
ing  doubts  ?  Lu  have  ruined,  you  have  wil  ully  a.^ 
irreparably  injured  me,  and  never  more,  f  I  can 
•avoid  it,  will  I  see  either  Somerset  or  you ! 

She  was  then,  half  distracted,  hurrying  out  of  the 
room:  but  stopping  short  at  the  door,  and  looking 

'TtIi  him,"  cried  she,  speaking  with  equal  haste 
and  emotion  "  tell  him,  at  least   when  you  are  mar 
vied   and  I  am  gone  from  this  hateful  place,  how  lit- 
te  you  were  justified  in  forming  such  suspicions ! 
whatever  loye"",  whatever  friendship  I  once  felt  for 
him  is  now  all  converted  into  horror  . 
She  then  rushed  out  of  the  room. 
Mrs   Hertford,  assured  her  labour  was  now  com- 
nleted  and  fearful,  if  Clarentine  was  seen  in  her  pre- 
sent agitated  state    of  being  suspected  as  its  cause 
soon  after  collected  her  work,  and  telhng  the  mad 
at  the  door  she  had  suddenly  remembered  some  busi- 
Lss  that  called  her  home,  left  her  compliments  to  the 
ladies,  and  quitted  the  house.  c    r„„i„ 

Th^  detestable  insinuation  she  had  so  unfeehngly 
persuaded  her  unhappy  victim  had  escaped  her  it 
was  nothiuK  less  than  true  she  had  ever  dreamed  ot 
uttering ;  she  knew  too  well  the  effect  it  would  have 


82 


upon  the  enraptured  Somerset  to  venture  so  dantrer- 
ous  and  unnecessary  an  experiment,  and  perfectly 
convmced  Clarentine's  pride  and  indignation  woul^ 
be  such  as  to  lead  her  now  most  anxiously  to  shun 
eyery  opportunity  of  being  alone  with  him/she  rest" 
ed  secure  m  the  firm  belief  they  would  come  to  no 
explanation,  but  with  increased"^  reserve  c^nt  nu" 
one  from  consciousness,  the  other  from  mortification' 
to  ayoid  all  occasions  of  being  together  ' 

event  rJ?.'T"  '^^  u""'  ^°">pletely  justified  by  the 
or  of  .n  '^'^'"f  °^' "hose  passions  either  of  sorrow 
or  of  anger,  when  they  were  once  thoroughly  roused, 
the  keenness  of  her  sensibility  rendered  it  extremely 
difficult  for  her  to  subdue,  had  been  so  deeply  hur^ 
by  the  scene  of  the  morning,  and  still  felt  herself  so 
d  sturbed  and  irritated,  that,  when  she  received  the 
usual  summons  to  dinner,  hearing  Somerset,  at  whose 
very  name  she  shuddered,  was  below,  sh;  pllded 
indisposition  in  excuse  for  not  going  down. 

In  a  few  moments   Mr.  Lenham,  ever  kind  and 
attentive,  was  at  her  door  to  enquire' personalty  afer 

She  went  to  him  the  instant  she  heard  his  voice 
and  affecting  to  speak  with  cheerfulness,  made  light 
of  her  complaint,  mtreated  him  to  go  back  to  Uie 
tamily,  and  to  quiet  his  own  apprehensions  about  her. 

"  I  shall  be  well,  dear  Sir,  in  the  evening,"  added 
she,  forcing  a  smile,  "  and  hope  to  be  able  to  keep 

TlrTS^Tr'.  "',*  ^^f  •  °^"'^'Sh,  at  whose  house 
I  promised  to  drink  tea." 

Somewhat  re-assured  by  the  composed  and  tran- 
him  Mr  't"  ""t'"^  she  compelled  herself  to  answer 
him,  Mr.  Lenham,  telhng   her  her  dinner  should  be 

;rpfrbur''  ""'  "P'  ''^"  ''''  ^^'•'  ='"''  «*'--d  t° 

There  had  been  a  time  when  Somerset,  open  and 

undisguised,  attached  to  her  by  every  tie  of  gratitude 

and  ot  love,  would  have  permuted  no  consideration, 


83 

on  hearing  Clarentine  was  ill,  to  have  prevented  his 
flying  with  anxious  precipitation  to  soothe,  and  if 
possible,  mitigate  her  sufferings.  That  time  was 
passed  :  it  was  long  since,  in  the  favourite  retreat  he 
had  taken  such  delight  in  decorating  for  her,  Claren- 
tine, by  one  encouraging  look  or  smile,  had  granted 
him  admittance.  Checked  by  her  coldness,  which, 
though  within  a  few  days  it  had  begun  to  abate,  he 
still  remembered  with  a  mixture  of  sorrow  and  pride, 
all  that  animated  sensibility  with  which  he  had  for-, 
merly  addressed  her,  with  which  he  had  spoken,  not 
only  of  her,  but  to  her,  had  been  succeeded  by  a 
studied,  distant  civility  of  behaviour,  equally  well 
calculated  to  conceal  his  real  sentiments  from  others, 
and  from  herself. 

The  first  emotion  and  alarm,  therefore,  which  the 
report  of  her  indisposition  involuntarily  led  him  to 
betray,  having  subsided,  upon  hearing  Mr.  Lenham 
had  seen,  and  found  her  better  than  he  expected, 
during  the  rest  of  the  day  he  carefully  avoided  men- 
tioning her  name,  and  affected,  though  with  but  lit- 
tle success,  to  discourse  upon  general  subjects  with 
the  same  ease  and  calmness  as  usual. 

Meanwhile  Clarentine,  eager  to  get  out  of  the 
reach,  as  well  of  Mr.  Lenham's  enquiries,  as  Somer- 
set's dreaded  presence,  stole  down  the  stairs  as  softly 
as  she  could  when  the  hour  was  come  at  which  she 
was  accumstomed  to  repair  to  Mrs.  Denbigh's,  and 
taking  one  of  the  maids  with  her,  let  herself  out  at 
the  garden  gate,  to  avoid  being  seen  from  the  par- 
lour windows,  and  proceeding  lightly  forward,  soon 
reached  that  Lady's  house. 

It  was  no  difficult  task  for  Mrs.  Denbigh,  saga- 
cious and  penetrating  as  she  was,  to  discover  in  the 
looks  and  voice  of  her  young  friend,  the  most  mani- 
fest symptoms  of  perturbation  and  uneasiness.  Cla- 
rentine's  countenance  was  one  of  those,  which,  in- 
genuous and  expressive,  it  was  as  easy  to  read  as  to 


u 

iintlerstand ;  and  though  since  the  morning  she  had 
not  shed  one  tear,  heaved  one  sigh,  or  given  way  to 
any  feelings  but  of  indignation  and  resentment,  her 
eyes  looked  so  heavy,  her  heart  seemed  so  oppressed, 
and  she  spoke  with  such  unusual  rapidity  and  inco- 
herence, that,  almost  frightened  to  behold  her,  Mrs. 
Denbigh,  after  a  short  and  anxious  examination, 
earnestly  called  out — 

"  My  dear  child,  in  the  name  of  heaven  !  what  has 
happened  to  you  ?  Why  do  you  look  thus  strange  and 
thus  disturbed  ?" 

This  eager  enquiry  shocked  and  surprised  Claren- 
tine  so  much,  that  staring  at  her  at  first  without  be- 
ing able  to  answer  it,  she  at  length,  in  a  hesitating 
and  inarticulate  voice,  said — 

"  Happened,  my  dear  madam  ? — Nothing — what 
■should  have  happened  ?" 

"  Something  no  less  extraordinary  than  terrible,  if 
I  may  believe  your  countenance,"  repliedMrs.  Den- 
bigh. "  Have  you  had  any  letters  ?  any  unexpected 
bad  news  ?" 

Too  artless  and  candid  long  to  elude  such  friendly 
urgency,  Clarentine's  bursting  heart  now  found  a  re- 
lief, no  less  seasonable  than  consolatory,  in  pouring 
out  all  its  grief  into  the  sympathising  and  indulgent 
bosom  of  Mrs.  Denbigh.  It  was  so  long  since  she 
had  pined,  vainly  pined,  for  some  one  in  whom,  un- 
checked by  prudence  or  apprehension,  she  might  se- 
curely confide,  that  soothed  and  melted  by  the  gen- 
tleness and  compassion  that  was  shewn  her,  every 
irascible  passion  by  which  she  had  been  torn  sub- 
sided, and  gave  place  to  a  gratitude  the  most  fer- 
vent, and  a  sensibility  the  most  unrestrained. 

When  her  first  emotion,  however,  had  abated,  and 
the  tears  she  had  so  abundantly  shed  ceased  to  flow, 
Mrs.  Denbigh  taking  her  hand,  and  addressing  her 
in  a  tone  of  mixed  pleasantry  and  seriousness,  said — 

"  Tender  and  affectionate  as  I  have  long  believed 


85 

you,  my  dearest  Clarentine,  I  never  suspected  till  this 
moment,  that,  to  so  much  softness,  your  litde  heart 
united  so  much  pride  ;  you  must  curb  it,  my  young 
friend,  by  every  effort  in  your  power,  or  greatly  do 
I  fear,  that  of  the  most  benevolent  and  candid  of  hu- 
man beings,  it  will  teach  you  to  become  the  mostun^ 
just  and  illiberal.-' 

"  Dearest  Madam  — ^'  exclaimed  Clarentine,  with 
dismay. 

"  Nay,  be  not  very  seriously  frightened,"  resumed 
Mrs.  Denbigh,  smiling ;  "■  what  I  said  was  more 
meant  as  a  caution  than  a  reproach.  ,  1  would  not 
hurt,  I  would  not  designedly  offend  you  for  the  world, 
yet,  my  best  Clarentine,  is  there  not  something  a  lit- 
tle petulant  and  hasty  in  the  anger  with  which  you 
permit  yourself  to  speak  of  Mrs.  Hertford  ?  Allow- 
ing that  her  regard  for  Captain  Somerset  clashes  with 
your  own ;  that  she  has  unadvisedly  given  him  to 
understand  more  of  your  partiality  in  his  favour  than 
you  could  wish  ;  still,  however,  I  see  not  in  either 
case  any  reason  so  severely  to  blame  her.  Let  ijour 
own  susceptibility  be  an  apology  for  hers ;  and  as  for 
the  disclosure  she  made  to  him,  imprudent  as  it  was, 
its  motives  at  least  could  only  be  such  as  to  do  honoun 
to  her  heart." 

Clarentine,  with  a  look  of  incredulity,  and  a  smile 
of  involuntary  contempt,  v/ould  here  have  interrupt- 
ed her,  but  Mrs.  Denbigh  not  allowing  her  time, 
somewhat  gravely  added — 

"  Young  as  you  are,  my  dear  Miss  Delmington, 
these  deep-rooted  prejudices  should  not  be  cherish- 
ed ;  since  if  such  is  now  their  force,  when  time  adds 
experience  to  natural  distrust,  what  will  be  their  bit- 
terness ?  Oh,  let  not  then  a  tendency  so  unamiable 
sully  the  guileless  and  youthful,  simplicity  of  your 
character !  Be  not  only  virtuous  and  deserving  in 
yourself,  but  cultivate  with  care  that  generous  and 

Vol.  II.  H 


86 

noble  disposition,  .which  should  lead  all  whose  own 
hearts  are  jiure  to  believe  well  of  others." 

Clarentine  could  !;)ear  no  more — 

'*  Oh,  Madam,"  cried  she  with  earnestness,  "  what 
dreadful  prepossession  are  you  yourself  conceiving 
against  me  1  Am  I,  indeed,  so  lost  to  all  sense  of 
candour  and  justice  as  you  describe?  Do  I  appear 
so  very  illiberal,  so  very  seveVe  as  to  require  such  a 
reproof?  Oh,  believe  me,  the  unfavourable  opinion 
I  have  thus  unguardedly  betrayed  of  Mrs.  Hertford 
is  not  the  mere  result  of  sudden  resentment,  or  ground- 
less conjecture  !  I  intended  inviolably  to  have  kept 
secret  all  I  had  ever  heard  concerning  her,  but  you 
now  compel  me  in  my  own  vindication  to  speak 
openly." 

She  then  very  circumstantially  repeated  every  par- 
ticular which  had  tended  to  infuse  suspicion  into  her 
mind  whilst  at  Sidmouth  ;  spoke  of  the  mysterious 
hints  that  Eltham  had  there  dropped  relating  to  her, 
the  caution  her  earnest  interrogations  had  drawn 
from  him,  the  strange  and  significant  looks  with  which 
he  had  always  talked  of  her ;  and  lastly,  of  the  free 
and  contemptuous  style  in  which  he  had  allowed 
himself  personally  to  address  her. 

Mrs.  Denbigh  listened  to  all  these  circumstances 
with  an  air  of  surprise  which  plainly  shewed,  that 
had  she  depended  less  implicitly  upon  the  veracity 
of  the  relator,  she  would  have  been  tempted  wholly 
to  discredit  them. 

"  The  greatest  proof  of  art ^"^  it  has  been  said,  "  Z5 
to  conceal  art^'  and  this  Mrs.  Hertford  had  so  suc- 
cessfully accomplished,  that  far  from  having  ever 
appeared  in  Mrs.  Denbigh's  eyes  as  a  woman  of  de- 
sign or  contrivance,  she  had  rather  imposed  herself 
upon  her  as  one  of  volatility  and  thoughtlessness,  who 
to  a  great  deal  of  levity  added  quick  parts,  but  nei- 
ther depth  enough  to  be  capable  of  regular  stratagem, 
or  steadiness   sufHcient  to  apply  her   understanding 


87 

to  purposes  ot"  utility.  What  the  qualities  of  her 
heart  might  be,  she  had  found  no  opportunity  of  se- 
riously investigating  :  concluding  them,  however,  to 
be  rather  benevolent  than  otherwise,  from  her  con- 
stant readiness  to  oblige  and  her  never-failing  good- 
humour,  she  had  always  seen  her  without  distrust, 
aftd  conversed  with  her  without  reserve. 

These  being  her  sentiments,  when  Clarentine  pau- 
ed,  Mrs.  Denbigh  frankly  avowed  them,  adding. 

"  Upon  the  opinion  of  such  a  man  as  Mr.  Eltham, 
^areless  and  inconsiderate  as  without  a  doubt  he  is,  I 
can  consequently  put  little  reliance.  Mrs.  Hertford, 
though  now  I  believe  she  is  seriously  attached,  once 
appeared  to  me,  and  formerly  unquestionably,  was, 
a  giddy,  vain  coquette,  fond  of  admiration,  and  de- 
lighting in  new  conquests  :  Mr.  Eltham  himself 
possessed  much  the  same  turn  of  mind  ;  and  these 
two,  playing  upon  each  other,  with  identical  weapons, 
may  very  probably  have  had  some  little  difference, 
the  gentleman's  proud  stomach  knows  not,  even  yet, 
how  to  digest.  If  he  really  thought  ker  more  to 
hlame  than  himself^  there  was  nothing  dishonourable 
in  his  guardedly  cautioning  you  against  her ;  yet, 
from  an  adviser  so  ill  qualified  for  tlie.task,  I  would 
not.  Miss  Delmington,  too  readily  in»blbe  injui-ious 
jurmises." 

*'  Well,  Madam,"  cried  Clarentine,  "  further  than 
this,  I  will  say  no  more  upon  the  subject ;  it  is 
equally  impossible  for  me  either  to  fir^et  or  not  to 
feel ;  I  am  convinced,  therefore,  that  as  long  as  I  re- 
main in  Mrs.  Hertford's  vicinity,  thinking  of  her  as 
I  7nust  think,  and  suffering  by  her  as  I  77iuH  suffer, 
I  can  enjoy  no  ease  or  comfort.  Where  I  can  go  1 
know  not,  but  from  Mr.  Lenham's  house,  during  the 
present  posture  of  affairs,  I  am  determined  to  re  move !" 

"  Are  you  serious,"  cried  Mrs.  Denbigh,  with 
much  astonishment.  "  I  never  was  more  so,"  an- 
swered Clarentine  firmly. 


Mrs.  Denbigh  after  this  was  silent  a  few  minutes  ; 
but  at  length,  addressing  Clarentine  again,  and  with 
the  utmost  kindness,  she  said^ — 

*'  1[  such,  my  dearest  Miss  Delmington,  is  your 
decided  resolution,  far  from  attempting  to  dissuade 
you  from  it,  I  will  rather  endeavour  to  make  my  own 
advantage  of  it.  You  say,  that,  at  this  moment  you 
have  fixed  upon  no  particular  place  to  repair  to :  I 
am  myself,  in  a  very  short  time,  going  to  Bath :  but 
as  motives  of  friendship  alone  will  lead  me  there, 
and  I  expect  not  to  visit  or  be  visited  by  more  than 
one  family  in  the  place,  its  being  so  early  or  so  late 
(I  know  not  which  to  call  it)  in  the  season,  is  to  me 
perfectly  immaterial :  will  it  be  so,  however,  to  you, 
my  young  friend,  and  can  you  voluntarily  consent  to 
shut  yourself  up,  perhaps  during  six  weeks,  with  so 
peevish  an  old  moraliser  ?" 

"Ah,  Madam!"  cried  the  delighted  Clarentine — 
"  if  I  could  but  flatter  myself  you  vrere  indeed  serious 
in  making  me  such  a  proposal !  but  it  cannot  be  :  it 
would  render  me  too  happy,  and  happiness  and  I  seem 
destined  to  be  great  strangers  !" 

Mrs.  Denbigh,  much  affected  by  the  purport  of 
this  .speech,  after  assuring  her  in  the  most  friendly 
terms  she  had  never  made  an  offer  she  so  sincerely 
wished  might  be  accepted,  attempted  to  reanimate 
her  courage  and  cheer  her  hopes. 

*^  It  is  too  soon  for  you  yet,  my  Clarentine,"  said 
she,  "  to  admit  lasting  sorrow  or  despondence  into 
your  breast.  The  world  is  all  before  you,  a  world 
into  which  you  have  hitherto  scarcely  taken  more 
than  a  stolen  glance  :  many,  many  are  the  comforts, 
the  felicities  I  hope,  it  has  still  in  reserve  for  you. 
Your  own  merit  will  make  you  friends  ;  your  inde- 
pendence ensure  you  respect ;  and  the  goodness  and 
purity  of  your  heart  bestow  upon  you  internal  appro- 
bation.    With  such  prospects,  such  health,  such  in- 


89 

nocence  and  youth,  \vhy,  then,  my  dearest  giri,  wliy 
give  way  to  this  vain  and  thankless  dejection  !'' 

"  Ah  !  believe  me,  Madam,"  answered  Clarentine, 
the  tears  once  more  glistening  in  her  eyes — *'  I  have 
not  given  way  to  it !  No  day  has  nov/  ever  passed  for 
many  weeks  that  I  have  not  strained  every  nerve  to 
appear  cheerful,  even  when  my  heart  has  been  most 
oppressed  ;  and  though  often  wishing  to  indulge  re- 
flection, often  wishing  to  be  alone,  I  have  yet  always 
forced  myself  into  occupation  or  society." 

*'  In  both,"  said  Mrs.  Denbigh,  "  you  were  wise 
and  right :  persevere,  then,  my  gentle  friend,  in  the 
same  course,  and  doubt  not  but  that,  in  a  very  short 
time,  your  virtuous  efforts  will  be  prosperous  and 
successful." 

She  then  reverted  to  the  subject  of  their  meditated 
journey,  which  she  told  her  it  had  been  her  design 
to  begin  in  about  a  week,  but  that,  if  it  was  her  wish, 
and  Mr.  Lenham  made  no  opposition  to  it,  she  would 
accelerate  her  departure  without  hesitation,  and  pre- 
pare every  thing  in  order  to  set  out  in  three  days. 

Clarentine  was  very  grateful  for  this  second  offer, 
and  very  desirous,  on  finding  it  really  put  Mrs.  Den- 
bigh to  no  serious  inconvenience,  of  accepting  it. 
They  mutually  agreed,  therefore,  to  be  ready  early 
on  the  following  Tuesday  :  and  then  Clarentine,  all 
thanks  and  acknowledgments,  and  Mrs.  Denbigh  all 
benevolent  kindness,  separated  for  the  evening. 


CHAPTER  XV. 

CLARENTINE  hearing  at  the  door,  when  she 
returned  home,  that  Captain  Somerset  was  already 
gone,  immediately  went  into  the  parlour  publicly  to 
announce— wishing  to  avoid  any  private  conversation 
with  Mr.  Lenham  upon  th*  subject — her  new  plan. 
H  2 


90 

The  surprise  with  which  she  was  heard  by  every- 
body, but  particularly  the  anxious  and  stedfast  look 
with  which,  v/hilst  blushing  and  speaking  very  quick, 
she  was  surveyed  the  whole  time  by  Mr.  Lenham, 
embarrassed  her  extremely.  She  answered  all  their 
questions  with  the  most  tremulous  agitation  j  seemed 
even  afraid  of  raising  her  eyes,  and  sought  with  so 
much  eagerness,  but  so  little  art,  to  change  the  con- 
versation, that  not  only  her  venerable  guardian,  but 
Miss  Barclay,  who  sat  attentively  examining  her,  was 
likewise  filled  with  suspicion  and  amazement. 

Her  mother,  however,  neither  so  deeply  interested 
as  the  one,  or  so  distrustful  as  the  other,  spoke  of  the 
scheme,  after  her  first  unmeaning  wonder  was  over, 
with  her  accustomed  facetious  unconcern. 

"  Good  ivits  jump^  I've  heard  say,"  cried  she,  *'  it 
was  but  this  very  afternoon  Captain  Somerset  talked 
of  going  a  journey  too  ;  not  so  long  a  one  though  as 
vours,  Miss  Clary." 

Clarentine,  who  could  not,  now,  hear  the  mere 
name  of  Somerset  without  confusion,  trusted  not  her 
voice  to  make  any  enquiries,  but  in  her  own  despite 
felt  extremely  anxious  to  learn  whither,  and  for  what 
purpose  he  was  going.     Mrs.  Barclay  went  on — 

"  He's  obliged,  he  says,  to  set  out  for  Windsor  to- 
morrow, and  does'n't  think  he  can  be  back  in  less 
than  a  week  :  so  that,  what  with  the  loss  of  Mr.  El- 
tham,  your  journey,  Mrs.  Denbigh's,  and  his,  we 
shall  be  left  here  quite  solitary." 

"  O,  Miss  Delmington  has  been  in  such  charming 
spirits  lately,"  cried  Miss  Barclay,  ironically,  "  that 
we  shall  certainly  be  terribly  dull  without  her !" 

''  I  am  not  conscious,"  said  Clarentine,  vexed  at 
this  speech,  and  unusually  eager  to  defend  herself, 
"  that  I  have  been  at  all  in  worse  spirits  of  late  than 
common." 

*♦  No  !"  exclaimed  Miss  Barclay — "  Why,  Lord, 


91 

you  have  looked,  as  my  mother  says,  so  like  a  poor 
h(£pQth  of  syrup  for  above  a  month,  that.  I  could  al- 
most— 

Clarentine,  dreadfully  afraid  she  would  to  her,  as 
well  as  to  Eltham,  coarsely  blunder  out  some  rude 
insinuation  concerning  her  being  in  love,  now  hastily- 
interrupted  her,  and  with  a  forced  smile,  said — 

"  If  I  really  zvas  low-spirited,  Miss  Baixlay,  no- 
thing would  be  so  little  likely  to  cure  me  as  animaxi- 
verting  upon  it." 

"  No,  to  be  sure,"  cried  the  mother,  "  it  only 
makes  bad  worse.  For  my  part,  when  I've  got  the 
blue  devils,  I  had  as  leave  any  body  should  beat  mc, 
as  take  notice  of  it." 

The  conversation  then,  to  Clarentine's  great  relief, 
took  a  different  turn,  and  nothing  further  was  said 
concerning  her  journey  that  night. 

Infinitely  as  her  reason,  and  still  more  her  pride, 
taught  her  to  rejoice  at  her  approaching  departure, 
her  heart,  as  the  time  drew  near,  sunk  at -the  prospect 
of  thus  voluntarily  banishing  herself  from  Somerset. 

"  Ah  !  little  did  I  imagine,"  cried  she,  '•'■  a  few 
weeks  since,  that  a  separation  like  this,  could  ever 
have  been  planned  and  sought  by  7ne  !  My  whole 
soul  recoils  at  the  idea  even  now  :  and  to  go  thus  sud- 
denly, thus  coldly  too — quit  the  place  whilst  he  is  ab- 
sent— take  no  leave  of  him !  Good  Heaven,  is  it  /that 
can  do  all  this  ? — Is  itSof7ie7'$et  I  can  thus  part  from  ? 
Cruel,  cruel  Mrs.  Hertford  ! — Why  do  you  compel 
me  to  such  a  task  ? — But  for  you  I  might  still  have 
remained  here — still  at  times  even  have  conversed 
with  and  heard  him,  as  in  former  days,  call  me  his 
dear,  his  gentle  Clarentine  ! — His  Clarentine  ? — Oh, 
never,  never  shall  I  be  his  !" 

It  was  on  the  night  preceding  her  journey,  that 

v/hilst,  unfitted  for  general  conversation,  she  was  shut 

p  in  her  own  apartment,  indulging  these  melancho- 


92 

ly  reflections,  some  one,  who  by  the  gentleness  of  the 
sound  she  concluded  to  be  Mr.  Lenham,  knocked  un- 
expectedly at  her  door.  She  immediately  arose  from 
before  the  fire  opposite  which  she  had  been  sitting, 
and  trying  to  assume  a  look  of  serenity,  if  not  of 
cheerfulness,  moved  to  the  door,  and  opening  it,  was 
beginning,  "  My  dear  Sir,  is  it" — but  drawing  back 
the  next  minute,  with  an  air  of  aflright  and  conster- 
nation, walked  hastily  again  to  the  chimney,  followed 
by — Somerset. 

Both,  during  a  short,  but  to  Clarentine  most  em- 
barrassing interval,  stood  utterly  silent.  At  length, 
Somerset,  having  shut  the  door,  once  more  ap- 
proached her,  and  with  a  look  of  hurry  and  anxiety 
said 

"  Am  I,  Miss  Delmington,  to  believe  the  strange 
report  I  have  just  heard?  Are  you,  indeed,  going 
from  Hampstead?" 

Clarentine,  supporting  herself  with  one  hand 
against  the  table,  and  trembling  as  much  from  sur- 
prise at  his  unexpected  appearance,  as  from  confusion 
at  the  almost  reproachful  seriousness  of  his  enquiry, 
answered  in  a  low  voice — "  Yes,  Sir." 

"  And  did  you  mean,  is  it  possible  you  could  mean 
thus  abruptly  to  set  out  without  leaving  one  line  to 
explain  to  me  the  motives  of  your  departure,  or,  at 
least,  to  tell  me  when  I  might  flatter  myself  you 
would  return  ?"  - 

Clarentine,  dreadfully  abashed,  hung  her  head,  and 
with  difficulty  repressed  her  tears,  but  attempted  not 
to  answer  him. 

*'  To  speak  of  times  past^''  resumed  Somerset,  af- 
ter vainly  waiting  some  minutes  for  a  reply, ''  chang- 
ed as  they  are,  would  to  me  be  too  painful ;  else 
would  I  ask  Miss  Delmington,  whether  the  design 
she  had  iww  meditated,  would  theyi  have  appeared 
to  her  generous  and  friendly  ? — We  quit  not  even  a 
casual  acquaintance  without  some  preparation,  some 


93 

previous  information  of  our  intention ; — yet  your 
brother,  your  friend,  your  Somerset,  you  could  quit, 
and  not  even  deign,  concerned  and  amazed  as  you 
knew  he  must  be  on  hearing  of  your  departure,  to 
leave  him  a  verbal  farewel !" 

"  Oh  Heaven !"  exclaimed  Clarentine,  overcome 
by  this  severe  but  just  reproof,  and  throwing  herself 
in  a  chair — ''  say  no  more,  Mr.  Somerset,  I  conjure 
ou  ! — I  am  sorry — I  am  ashamed — I  meant  not — '* 

She  could  proceed  no  further,  but  bursting  into 
ucars,  started  up,  and  ran  with  precipitation  into  the 
adjoining  room. 

Her  absence  however,  was  of  but  short  duration  : 
the  instant  she  was  alone,  reproaching  herself  for  hav- 
ing flown  from  him  so  inconsiderately,  she  endea- 
voured to  command  her  feelings,  and  return  to  him 
again  with  an  apology  somewhat  more  distinct,  and 
a  countenance  somewhat  more  composed. 

Almost  hopeless  of  her  granting  him  such  an  indal- 
gence,  Somerset,  who,  shocked  and  afflkted  at  the 
emotion  he  had  caused,  stood  in  an  attitude  of 
thoughtfulness  and  depression  near  the  fire,  hastily 
advanced  to  meet  her  as  she  entered,  and  in  a  soften- 
ed voice,  said — 

''•  Can  you  forgive  me,  my  dearest  Miss  Delming- 
ton,  tell  me,  can  you  pardon  the  unlicensed  freedom 
with  which  I  permitted  myself  to  address  you  ?— 
I  am  grieved,  you  know  not  how  deeply  grieved,  to 
have  occasioned  you  one  moment's  uneasiness." 

Clarentine  required  not  this  gentleness  in  order  tt) 
feel  pacified  and  appeased.  Fully  sensible  how  de- 
servedly she  must  have  appeared  to  merit  his  re- 
proaches, they  had  not  awakened  in  her  mind  one  re- 
sentful thought,  or  excited  in  her  any  sentiments  but 
of  shame  and  regret.  She  therefore  very  readily  ac- 
corded the  pardon  that  was  so  humbly  solicited,  and 
then  almost  as  humbly  pleaded  for  her  own. 

*'  Oh  !"  cried  Somerset,  with  earnestness,  "  speak 


94 

not  such  a  word,  I  beseech  you  ;  let  the  forgiveness 
be  as  wholly  yours  as  the  offence  was  mine." 

Then  drawing  a  chair  next  her,  after  she  had  again 
taken  her  seat,  he  added — 

"  I  have  but  one  apology  to  offer,  Miss  Delming- 
ton,  for  the  force  of  the  expressions  I  so  much  lament 
having  used.  The  suddenness  with  which  the  intel- 
ligence of  your  intended  journey  was  announced  to 
me  threw  me  off  my  guard,  and  bereft  me  of  all  re- 
flection :  my  heart  was  full,  I  scarce  knew  what  I  said, 
and  might  have  proceeded  yet  longer  in  the  same 
strain,  had  not  the  tears  I  with  so  much  cruelty  drew 
from  you,  checked  and  recovered  me  to  a  sense  of 
the  impropriety!  was  committing." 

"  Well,  weiy  said  Clarentine,  faintly  smiling, 
"  the  storm  is  now  blown  over,  and  we  will  think  of 
it  no  more." 

"  Ah,  believe  me,"  cried  he,  "  I  shall  not  the  sooner 
cease  to  think  of  it  with  self-reproach  for  this  un- 
merited gentleness  and  mercy !" 

They  were  then  for  some  time  both  silent.  Cla- 
rentine, however,  affecting  a  gaiety  she  did  not  feel, 
at  length  said — 

"  Tour  anger  being  past,  Mr.  Somerset,  it  is  nov^ 
my  turn  to  reprove.  Why,  if  xve  ought  not  even  to 
quit  a  caaual  acquaintance  rvithout  some  preparation^ 
did  you  set  off  so  suddenly  for  Windsor,  and  leave 
me  to  hear  of  it  only  by  accident?" 

<'  Ah,  dearest  Miss  Delmington,"  replied  Somer- 
set, in  a  tone  of  dejection, — "  I  had  not  the  vanity  to 
suppose  my  absence  could  be  to  you  any  other  than 
a  matter  of  utter  insignificance  :  the  case,  with  regard 
to  what  I  felt  for  your  departure,  is  different ;  I 
never  did,  nor  ever  xvish  to  conceal,  that  in  every 
thing  which  relates  to  you,  I  take  the  liveliest  and 
most  fervent  interest !" 

"  Is  it  possible,"  thought  Clarentine,  extremely  af- 
fected by  this  speech,  "  he   could  thus  seriously  re 


95 

proach  me  for  my  indifFerence  if  he  Anew  or  believed 
I  love  him  ?" — This  doubt  gave  her  courage  to  look 
upy  and  with  a  sweetness  and  sensibility  to  which  he 
had  long  been  disused,  she  said — 

"  Why,  Mr.  Somerset,  will  you  talk  to  me  thus  ? 
Why  believe  me  so  unjust  and  ungrateful?  Have 
I  ever  rgiven  you  reason  to  suspect  I  really  felt  so 
little  esteem  and  regard  for  you,  as  not  to  be  sensibly 
hurt  by  any  thing  that  on  your  part  bore  the  appear- 
ance of  slight  or  neglect  ?" 

The  wonder,  doubt,  and  joy  this  speech  occasioned 
Somerset,  held  him  some  minutes  speechless  and  im- 
moveable. At  length,  however,  recovering  his  voice, 
and  eagerly  snatching  her  hand,  he  pressed  it  with  a 
look  of  gratitude  and  transport  to  hi3  lips,  and  ear- 
nestly exclaimed — 

"  Ever  dear,  ever  lovely  and  generous  Clarentine  ! 
what  relief  to  my  heart  has  not  this  kindness — this 
unhoped  for  kindness  given  ! — Oh,  tell  me,"  added 
he,  after  a  short  pause — "  tell  me — Why  should  you 
undertake  this  hateful  journey  ? — Why  must  I,  the 
first  moment  you  have  restored  yourself  to  me  again, 
and  for  so  long,  lose  you  ?" 

Clarentine,  surprised,  yet  involuntarily  softened  by 
this  tenderness,  sighed  deeply,  but  made  no  answer, 
and  Somerset  still  detaining  her  hand,  which  indeed 
she  had  not  courage  to  attempt  drawing  from  him, 
thus  went  on — 

"  Could  I  divine,  my  beloved  Clarentine,  what 
passes  in  that  gentle  bosom,  and  penetrate  its  secret 
sorrows,  with  what  earnest  anxiety  would  I  endea- 
vour to  alleviate  them  !  You  acknowledge,"  added 
he,^ "  some  regard,  some  esteem  for  me,  but  when, 
when  will  those  sentiments  animate  again  into  confi- 
dence and  affection  ?  You  cannot  have  a  grief  in 
which,  mysterious  as  you  are,  I  do  not  participate  ; 
say  then  sweetest  Clarentine !  tell  me  why  that  bitter 
sjgh  and  these  involuntary  tears  ?" 


96 

Clarentine  had  no  time,  even  if  she  had  had  words 
to  answer  him,  for  just  then  the  voice  of  young 
Blandford  was  heard  at  the  door,  calling  out — 
*'  Captain  Somerset,  Mrs.  Hertford  is  below,  and 
wants  to  speak  with  you." 

All  Clarentine's  late  pride  of  heart  returned  at 
^hese  words  ;  all  that  softness  into  which  his  own 
soothings  and  gentleness  had  melted  her,  disappear- 
ed, and  snatching  her  hand  abruptly  from  him,  with 
glowing  cheeks,  and  a  look  of  haste  and  trepidation, 
she  said — "  Oh,  go,  go,  Mr.  Somerset !  Why  did  you 
stay  so  long  ?  Why  suffer  me  to  detain  you  ?" 

And  then,  without  raising  her  eyes  to  his,  or  giving 
him  time  to  stop  her,  with  yet  more  speed  than  before, 
she  rushed  out  of  the  closet  into  her  ow^n  room,  and 
locked  the  door  after  her. 

In  a  few  minutes  she  heard  him,  though  slowly,  go 
down  stairs,  after  which  all  was  silent,  except  that,  at 
intervals,  she  fancied  she  could  distinguish  the  mur- 
mur of  voices  in  the  parlour,  as  the  maid  (for  it  was 
now  near  supper-time)  opened  the  door  and  passed 
backwards  and  forwards  ;  what  was  said,  howev^er,  it 
was  impossible  to  discover,  nor  would  her  agitation 
have  allowed  her  to  listen  even  had  she  wished  it. 
Disturbed  and  restless,  she  traversed  her  room  with 
uneasy  steps,  sometimes  softening  at  the  recollection 
of  Somerset's  late  kindness  ;  at  others,  indignanth^ 
shrinking  either  from  the  idea  of  sharing  his  divided 
heart  with  Mrs.  Hertford,  or  being  m-ade  solely  the 
dupe  of  his  dissembled  affection. 

That  he  wished  her  to  believe  he  loved  her,  she 
could  have  no  doubt  ;  yet  when  she  reflected  upon 
his  marked  attention  to  another  woman  the  whole 
time  ;  upon  the  sort  of  public  influence  and  power 
that  woman  seemed  authorised  to  exercise  over  him  ; 
how  to  reconcile  such  a  wish  to  his  accustomed  high 
sense  of  honour,  she  knew  not.  "  Was  it  piti/  only, 
he  designed  to  shew  me  r"  cried  she — "  or  does  he 


97 

mean  all  these  warm  professions  to  pass  merely  for 
the  effusions  of  brotherly  fondness  ? — Why  does  his 
conduct  so  strangely  militate  against  his  language  ?— 
and  why,  when  his  looks  are  all  tenderness,  are  his 
actions  all  duplicity  ?  Is  there  either  rectitude  or 
principle  in  seeking  to  conciliate  my  affection  after 
his  own  is  gone  ?  Oh  Somerset,  when  shall  I  ever 
understand  your  inexplicable  character  !  when  know 
whether  with  justice  to  bestow  upon  you  contempt 
or  esteem  !" 

Whilst  these  thoughts  were  darting  in  rapid  suc- 
cession through  her  mind,  the  parlour  door  was  again 
opened,  and  she  heard  Mrs.  Hertford's  voice  in  the 
passage.  Desirous  of  assuring  herself  whether  she 
was  really  going,  Clarentine  went  back  to  her  closet, 
and  the  moon  being  by  this  time  risen,  presently  saw 
her  attended  by  Somerset,  who  walked  by  her  side, 
and  her  own  servant  who  followed  her  at  some  dis- 
tance, cross  the  little  court  before  the  house,  and 
when  she  reached  the  gate  that  opened  to  the  road, 
stop  at  it  during  a  considerable  interval,  in  apparent- 
ly earnest  conversation. 

Clarentine's  heart  beat  quick  at  this  sight,  and  as 
if  rooted  to  the  spot,  she  stood  mournfully  observing 
them,  till  at  length  Mrs.  Hertford,  after  shaking 
hands  with  Somerset,  walked  on  with  the  servant, 
leaving  him  to  go  back  alone  to  the  house  ;  this  he 
did  immediately,  but  as  he  advanced  looking  up  at 
Clarentine's  window,  she  hastily  retreated,  and  soon 
after  heard  him  shut  the  passage  door,  and  rt^turn  tc 
the  parlour.' 

The  maid  now  came  to  let  her  know  supper  was 
ready  ;  she  declin^-d  going  down,  however,  upon  pre- 
tence she  had  not  yet  finished  her  packing,  an  excuse 
that  in  some  measure  was  tru^j,  as  she  had  still  all 
her  drawing  materials  to  collect;  but  desired  h<  r  to 
tell  Mr.  Lenham,  that  as  she  was  to  go  very  early  in 
the  morning,  she  should  be  extremely  glad  to  speak 

Vol.  II.  I 


98 

to  him  before  he  went  to  bed,  either  in  his  study  or 
her  own  room  ;  Mrs.  and  Miss  Barclay  she  meant  to 
take  leave  of  after  they  came  up  stairs,  but  Somerset 
she  was  determined  if  possible  to  avoid  seeing  again. 

Accordingly,  when  at  his  usual  hour  Somerset, 
despairing  of  another  interview,  departed,  Mr.  Len- 
ham  hastened  to  her.  His  adieus  were  affectionate, 
and  even  in  the  present  depressed  state  of  her  spirits, 
touching  ;  he  carefully  forbore,  however,  speaking 
upon  any  subject  he  thought  likely  to  distress  her,  or 
asking  one  question  concerning  the  motives  of  her 
journey;  but  having  remitted  to  her  the  quarterly 
payment  that  about  this  time  was  near  becoming  due, 
tenderly  embraced  and  blessed  her,  and  immediate- 
ly retired. 

The  Barclays  soon  after  both  came  to  her  like- 
wise ;  their  parting  compliments  she  found  no  diffi- 
culty in  supporting  with  perfect  composure ;  they 
were  short  and  blunt,  though  on  the  mother's  part,  at 
least,  by  no  means  unfriendly  :  and  having  staid  with 
her  a  decent  time,  asked  a  great  number  of  useless 
questions,  and  scarcely  attended  to  one  answer,  they 
wished  her  good  night,  and  walked  out  with  the  same 
unconcerned  aspect  they  had  entered. 

Early  the  following  morning,  Mrs.  Denbigh  in  a 
hired  post-chaise  was  at  the  door,  and  Clarentine 
getting  into  it,  they  immediately  proceeded  forward, 
and  sleeping  one  night  upon  the  road,  arrived  the 
next  evening  at  Bath. 


CHAPTER  XVII. 

MRS.  DENBIGH  and  her  fair  companion  having 
slept  the  first  night  of  her  arrival  at  the  York  Hotel, 


99 

rallied  forth  the  next  morning  to  secure  lodgings  as 
near  as  they  could  to  the  South  Parade,  where  Mrs. 
Westbury,  the  friend  who  Mrs.  Denbigh  was  pur- 
posely come  to  visit,  resided.  To  these  they  imme- 
diately removed,  and  as  soOn  as  their  early  dinner 
was  over,  Slaving  previously  sent  a  note  to  announce 
their  intention,  walked  to  that  lady's  house. 

In  the  parlour  which  Clarentine  was  shev/n  into, 
whilst  Mrs.  Denbigh  went  up  to  her  friend's  room, 
sat  a  young  man  apparently  about  two-and-twenty 
years  old,  lounging  back  in  his  chair  before  the  fire 
with  a  pamphlet  in  one  hand  and  a  tooth-pick  (of 
which  he  seemed  to  be  making  furious  use)  in  the 
other.  His  face  and  figure  when  he  rose  up  and 
looked  round,  'Appeared  to  Clarentine,  though  both 
for  a  man,  rather  finical  and  diminutive,  extremely 
regular  and  handsome,  but  the  ridiculous  aft'ectatioii 
of  negligence  that  accompanied  every  motion,  and  the 
fixed  yet  vacant  stare  with  which,  scarcely  conde- 
scending to  bow  as  she  entered,  he  surveyed  her,  at 
first  amazed,  and  afterwards  embarrassed  her  so 
much,  that,  declining  the  chair  which  the  servant  had 
placed  for  her  near  the  fire,  she  w  alked  gravely  to  the 
window,  and  without  speaking,  stood  iiefore  it  with 
her  back  to  him,  pretending  to  be  engaged  in  observ- 
ing what  was  passing  in  the  street. 

This  quiet  indifference  appeared  to  stimulate  the 
young  man's  curiosity,  and  pique  his  vanity  ;  for  in 
a  very  short  time,  kicking  away  the  chair  which  stood 
betv/een  them  in  preference  to  taking  the  trouble  of 
walking  round  it,  he  sauntered  up  to  her  with  his 
hands  in  his  coat  pockets,  and  resting  one  shoulder 
against  the  window  frame,  and  half  yawning  as  he 
spoke,  said  in  a  languid,  drawling  voice — 

"  Are  3'ou  come  to  make  any  stay  in  this  place, 
Ma'am  ?" 

Clarentine,  infinitely  better  pleased  to  enter  into 
any  sort  of  conversation  than   to  be  merely  consi 


100 

dered  as  an  object  to  be  stared  at,  very  readily  an- 
swered— .  *^ 

"  I  believe,  Sir,  we  shall  be  here  about  a  month  " 

Ma'Jm'?"^''^  ^  ''^^''^'''''  ''^^^'''*  Denbigh's,  I  presume, 

"  No,  Sir,  I  have  not  that  happiness." 

TVT^.^^'^f,  ^"^"^  ^  ^"^^^^  extensive  acquaintance  at  Bath, 
Ma'am  r"  ' 

"  I^never  was  here  before,  Sir." 
"  You  come  from  London  I  think.  Ma'am  ^    Is  it 
not  very  thin  just  now  ?" 

"  "^^V^^^  '  ^^  appeared  to  me  extremely  crowded  '' 

"At  this  time  of  the  year  London  crowded  ?— Tlie 
public  places  filled  .?" 

"  Oh,  as  to  the  public  places  I  kno\v  nothing  about 
them,  I  spoke  merely  of  the  streets." 

"  The  streets  r"  repeated  the  coxcomb,  a  little  con- 
temptuously, "  And  did  those  bright  eyes  vouchsafe 
to  bestow  a  glance  upon  any  of  the  vulgar  objects  in 
the  streets .?"  ** 

"  My  bright  eyes,"  replied  Qarentine,  determined 
to  petrify  him  at  once  by  the  discovery  of  her  insig- 
nificance, "  were  so  nearly  upon  a  level  with  those  ob- 
jects,  as  I  always  was  on  foot  when  in  London,  that 
sometimes  as  well  as  my  ears,  they  were  extremely 
mconvenienced  by  them." 

The  gende  youth,  as  she  expected,  looked  utterly 
confounded  at  this  disgraceful  confession,  and  for 
some  seconds  remained  profoundly  silent;  at  length, 
however,  addressing  her  again,  though  with  yet  less 
ceremony  than  at  first — 

"  Mrs.  Denbigh,  I  think.  Ma'am,"  said  he,  "  lives 
m  a  very  confined  circle  when  in  town .?  Do  you  re- 
side with  her  ?" 

"  No,  Sir ;  only  for  the  present." 

"  Your  usual  residence  is  in  the  city  then,  per- 
haps V 

Clarentine  laughed,  but  again  her  only  answer  was 


101 

a  simple  negative  ;  after  which,  walking  very  com- 
posedly to  the  fire,,  and  sitting  down,  she  took  up 
the  pamphlet  he  had  been  reading,  and  begun  turn- 
ing it  over  without  seeming  to  recollect  he  was  m  the 

room.  , 

Mrs.  Denbigh  now  in  a  short  time  come  down,  and 
on  seeing  the  voung  man,  who,  with  a  glass  held  to 
his  eye,  was  'still  lolling  against  the  wmdow  m  a 
friendly  and  familiar  voice,  called  out— 

"  Well,  John,  how  do  you  do  ?— Your  mother  has 
been  telling  me  you  have'left  college  and  are  come  to 
live  entirely  at  hom^  :  I  am  glad  to  hear  it  on  her 
account,  for  confined  as  she  is,  it  must  be  a  great 
pleasure  to  her  to  have  you  in  the  same  house. 

John,  appearing  by  no  means  delighted  at  the  old- 
fashioned  freedom  of  this  address,  made  a  cold  bow, 
but  did  not  speak. 

Mrs.  Denbigh  continued — 

"  I  hope,"  said  she,  sitting  down  by  Clarentme, 
"  you  have  entertained  this  young  lady  very  gallant- 
ly during  my  absence  ?" 

'  John  smiled  a  little   superciliously,  and  still  re- 
mained silent. 

"  Why,  friend,"  cried  Mrs.  Denbigh,  surveymg 
him,  at  length,  with  some  surprise,  "  are  you  grown 
too  fine  to  speak  to  an  old  acquaintance  ?  You  look 
immensely  solemn." 

Then  turning  to  Clarentine,  who  had  thrown  aside 
her  book  and  sat  internally  enjoying  poor  John's  con» 
sternation — 

^'  What  do  these  arch  and  comic  eyes  of  yours 
mean  ?"  cried  she.  "  Have  you  and  our  young  stu- 
dent been  falling  out  ?" 

"  O  dear,  not  at  all,  madam !"  answered  Clarentine, 
unable  any  longer  to  refrain  laughing.  "  No  two 
people  were  ever  more  peaceable  than  we  have  been: 
I  don't  think  we  have  spoken  one  word  this  last  half 
hour !" 

12 


102 


_^"  That's  being  very  peaceable  indeed !"  said  Mrs 
Denbigh  drd)-.  "  But  pray  John,  how  comefa 
th.s  about?  You  were  wont  to  be  extremely  assi- 
tMonT'"  '''  '""""  ''  "°^  "^^^  ^-y  '-S-  the 
"  °^f  Ma'am,"  cried  he,  simpering  and  lookine 
extremely  s>  ly,  "why  ask  me  such  a  question"  No! 
body  cares  less  about  fashions  than  I  do."  Then 
putting  up  h,s  glass  and  moving  indolently  towards 
the  door,  "  n  go  and  see,"  added  he,  «  whether  rny 
mother  is  coming  down."  "eiuer  ray 

"  No,  don't  trouble  yourself,"  cried  Mrs.  Den- 
oigh  "  Miss  Delmington  and  i  are  to  drink  teaTa 
her  dressing-room,  and  when  she. is  ready  she  will 
send  us  word.  ^ 

"Miss  Delmington !"  repeated  the  young  man 
mfngton""'  °'  ^"""P""'  "  '=  '''^'  ^ady''nam'e  De?-' 
it  before  ?  '"'^"''^  ^''''  °^"'^'Sh,  "  did  you  ever  hear 

"  O,  very  often  ;  I  had  the  pleasure  of  beinjr  ex- 
tremely well   acquainted   at   Oxford   with  a  young 
Baronet  of  that  name-Sir  Edgar  Delmington.  Pray, 
Ma  am,"  to  Clarentine,  "is  he  any  relation  of  yours  P 
1  cs,  oir. 

"  Your  brother  ?" 

''  No,  Sir — my  cousin." 

Assuming  an  air  of  infinitely  more  politeness  than 
/    ifj^^  T\'''  (though  her  London  walks  still 
choked  him  a  little)  he  now  said— 

"  Upon  my  word,  Ma'am,  I  am  extremely  happy 
to  have  had  the  honour  of  seeing  you.  I  hope  Sir 
-Kdgar  IS  very  well  f—Is  he  in  town  ?" 

"  He  is  in  Devonshire,  I  believe.  Sir," 

"How  could  you  suppose,"  cried  Mrs.  Denbigh 
^that  an  acquaintance   of  yours,  Mr.  Westbury   a 
Baronet,  would  disgrace  himself  (not  being  in  par- 


103 

liament)  by  appearing  in  London  before  the  birth- 
day ?" 

Just  then,  very  fortunately,  for  Mr.  Westbury  was 
extremely  at  a  loss  what  to  say,  the  door  opened,  and 
they  were  all  summonid  to  the  dressing-roonn. 

In  the  mother  of  this  trivial  young  man,  Clarentine 
found  a  woman,  who,  though  an  habitual  valetudina- 
rian, feeble  and  infirm,  was  yet  pleasing,  sensible, 
and  well-bred.  She  had  been  the  tried  and  approved 
friend  of  Mrs.  Denbigh  for  more  than  thirty-years  ; 
was  blessed  with  an  excellent  temper  and  many  es- 
timable virtues.  To  these  recommendations,  how- 
ever, she  unfortunately  added  one  predominant  foi- 
ble, which  in  conversation,  at  least,  often  obscured 
them  so  much,  that  it  required  some  candour  and  yet 
more  judgment  to  discriminate  l^pr  real  merit  though 
so  thick  a  mist.  She  was,  what  has  often  been  de- 
scribed but  can  never  be  too  often  held  up  to  deri- 
sion, a  female  pedant,  a  female  politician,  a  smatter- 
er  in  philosophy,  a  perpetual  controvertist !  In  her 
youth  she  had  been,  though  not  a  dec  ided  beauty,  an 
exceeding  pretty  woman,  which  advantage,  rein- 
forced by  the  powerful  addition  of  gold,  had  gained 
her  many  admirers,  much  delicate  flattery,  and  a 
great  deal  of  obsequious  attention.  Time  advanced, 
wrinkles  appeared,  and  lovers  disappeared  ! — The 
love,  Mrs.  Westbury  found  it  no  difficult  matter  to 
dispense  with  ;  but  the  adulation,  the  general  ho- 
mage, the  constant  deference — how  was  she  to  dis- 
pense with  these  ?  At  once  to  sink  into  insigni- 
ficance, after  having  been  so  long  held  up  as  an  ob- 
ject of  universal  admiration,  was  not  to  be  borne  ? 
Mrs.  Westbury,  therefore,  in  the  failure  of  youth  and 
beauty,  had  recourse  to  study — set  up  for  a  female 
critic,  and  though  on  a  different  score,  was  still  by 
many  fools  admired,  and  by  many  wise  men,  for  the 
sake  of  peace,  applauded. 


104 

With  the  acuteness  and  excellent  understanding 
which  Mrs.  Denbigh  possessed,  it  is  not  to  be  ima- 
gined she  was  the  last  to  discover  all  these  little  fail- 
ings. Kind-hearted,  however,  and  affectionate,  such 
errors  in  a  friend  who,  to  counterbalance  them,  had 
so  many  good  qualities,  she  easily  pardoned,  and  en- 
deavoured as  much  as  possible  either  wholly  to  over- 
look, or  unmoved  to  smile  at.  Upon  follies  utterly 
unmixed  with  malignancy,  yet  too  deeply  rooted  by 
age  to  be  eradicated,  she  thought  it  as  ungenerous 
to  exercise  severity,  as  it  was  hopeless  to  attempt 
experimental  reform. 

Learned  dissertations  or  political  arguments  apart, 
Mrs.  Westbury  could  be  equally  rational  and  enter- 
taining ;  and  in  that  light,  during  the  whole  evening, 
did  she  appear  to  her  youthful  visitor.  Books  were 
sometimes  talked  of,  but  only  such  as  she  imagined 
were  within  Clarentine's  reach,  in  which  number  she 
justly  concluded  that  poems,  moral  essays,  and  his- 
tory might  be  comprised.  Upon  Revolutions^  Go- 
vermnent^  ^c.  ^c.  fortunately  for  her  fair  auditor, 
she  wholly  forbore  touching,  well  knowing  that  Mrs. 
Denbigh  (though  far  more  ably  qualified  to  discourse 
upon  such  subjects  than  herself)  had  an  insuperable 
aversion  to  them,  and  wisely  suspecting,  that  with 
the  modest  Clarentine  it  might  be  the  same. 

Young  Westbury  meanwhile  had,  as  soon  as  any 
thing  like  regular  conversation  began,  disappeared, 
leaving  Clarentine  infinitely  more  disgusted  by  the 
species  of  servility  he  had  displayed  subsequent  to  his 
discovery  of  her  relationship  to  a  Baronet^  than  she 
had  by  any  means  thought  it  worth  her  while  to  be 
by  all  his  previous  impertinence. 


105 


CHAPTER  XVIIL 

CLARENTINE  had  been  about  three  days  at 
Bath,  when  from  her  friend  Sophia,  to  whom  she  had 
written  before  she  left  Hampstead  to  inform  her  of 
her  intended  journey,  she  received  the  followingletter. 

Delmmgton-House,  Dec. 

Miss  Delmington — "  Why,  what  an  unconscion- 
able, merciless  little  monopolist  of  human  hearts  you 
are,  Clarentine  !  A  few  days  since  arrived  at  Welwyn 
park,  with  as  love-lorn  and  almost  as  wo-begone  a 
face  as  ever  my  pgor  brother  Edgar  had,  your  second 
cast-off^  George  Eltham  Esq. — The  man  really  made 
me  give  a  nervous  start  (I  am  very  nervous^  you 
know)  the  instant  I  beheld  him  ;  nor  for  a  long  while, 
guess,  try,  puzzle  and  perplex  myself  as  I  would, 
could  I  possibly  make  out  what  was  the  matter  with 
him.  "  Surely,  thought  I,  that  solemn  phiz  must 
portend  something  direful  and  strange  !  Whom  have 
I  seen  that  ever  looked  at  all  like  him  ?  Why,  Edgar. 
And  why  did  Edgar  look  like  him  ?  Because  he  was 
crossed  hi  love.  Ergo,  this  man  must  be  crossed  in 
love  !  Now,  the  next  thing  is  to  find  out  xvho  has 
done  this  wicked  deed."  Accordingly,  I  set  about 
this  arduous  undertaking  (suspecting  you  a  little,  all 
the  time)  ;  and  after  four  failures,  four  days  shuffling 
and  evasion  on  his  part,  and  four  days  fruitless  exami- 
nation and  cross-examination  on  mine.,  at  length  drew 
or  rather  dragg-ed  irom  him  his  horrifying  secret. 

"  You  shall  hear,  for  your  edification  and  instruc- 
tion in  a  similar  case,  how  I  finally  succeeded. 

"  I  went  yesterday  morning  (I  should  certainly 
not  have  gone  but  for  the  above  mentioned  purpose, 
for  the  day  was  piercing  cold,)  to  call  upon  Lady 
Julia,  who  is  now  at  her  father's.  Never  having  lived 
in  the  great  world,  you  know,  I  am  as  regardless  of 


106 

all  ceremony  as  the  wild  inhabitant  of  an  African  de- 
sert :-~0,  you  may  truly  call  7ne  an  unadulterated 
Child  of  Nature  !  Well,  in  at  the  little  park  gate,  to 
which  she  gave  us  a  key  last  year,  I  went  (march- 
ing up  the  solemn  avenue  is  my  aversion),  and  from 
thence  making  the  best  of  my  way,  through  the  glass 
door  in  the  breakfast  room,  entered  the  house.  All 
was  profoundly  silent  in  that  quarter  of  the  mansion ; 
and  so,  after  taking  an  inventory  of  the  many  super- 
numerary moveables  I  beheld— such  as  a  fierce  cock- 
ed-hat  of  Mr.  Eltham's  upon  one  chair  ;  a  muff  and 
cloak  of  Lady  Julia's  upon  another  ;  an  odious  squall- 
ing parrot,  I  presume,  of  her  Ladyship's  likewise  ;  a 

stately  gold-headed  cane  of  my  Lord's,  &c.  &c I 

nioved  on,  and  without  any  interruption  safely  reach- 
ed the  dressing-room. 

"  I  entered— and  lo !  the  first  object  I  beheld  was 
Mr.  Eltham  in  person,  alone  and  reading.  "  Times 
are  dismally  changed  ;"  thought  I,  "  this  poor  man 
never  used  to  sit  thus  quietly  dosing  over  a  book  !" 

"I  curtsied  with  my  accustomed  profundity— he 
bowed  with  unaccustomed  gravity ;  after  which  we 
both  sat  down. — 

"  A  very  cold  day,  Sir,"  said  I. 
"  Yes,  extremely 'so,"  answered  he. 
"  Have  you  been  out  this  morning  ?" 
"  A  little  way  with  Lady  Julia,  but  she  found  the 
wind  high,  and  turned  back  in  less  than  ten  minutes." 
"Upon  this  I  started  up,  and  flying  to  the  glass, 
«  Ah,  true,"  cried  I,  "  the  wind  is  high,  and  ought 
to  have  given  me  a  bright  colour ;   and  so  it  has,  I 
protest !     Look  at  me,  Mr.  Eltham,  I  reallv  am  ex- 
tremely like  my  cousin  Clarentine  to  day  :  don't  you 
think  so  ?" 

"  Mr.  Eltham  forced  a  smile,  and  said,  "  why 
should  you  not  be  as  well  contented  to  look  like  ifour- 
selfy''  -^ 

**  Belle  deinaude .'"  cried   I   <•<•  Why  because,  you 


«-^  AjlU.  A^t^  « "^^^ 


knif)W,   Clarentine    has    alw; 


tri^~x.inm 


always  been  reckoned  the 
beauty  of  the  family  ;  nay,  if  I  am  not  mistaken,  you 
thought  her  so  as  well  as  every  body  else.  Pray," 
added  I,  delighted  to  observe  he  seemed  to  sit  un- 
easy, ^nd  fidgetted  upon  his  chair--"  pray,  for  I  for- 
get what  you  said  about  it,  have  you  seen  her  very 
lately?" 

"  No,"  answered  he,  rising  and  strolling  to  the  win- 
dow with  an  air  of  affected  indifference,  "  not  very 
lately." 

"  Umph  !" — thought  I — "  that's  a  Jib,  I  have  no 
doubt !" 

"  I  said  nothing  more,  however,  but  moving  to  the 
piano  forte,  stood  turning  over  some  of  the  music 
that  lay  scattered  upon  it,  and  among  the  rest,  spying 
the  stale  old  song— 

" WhvsiLDale  an 


sat  down  to  the  instrument,  and  with  all  the  expres- 
sion I  could  give  it,  began  playing  and  singing  it,  I 
may  almost  say  at  him,  rather  than  to  him. 

"  Very  indecorous,  Clarentine,  was  it  not  ? 

"  The  poor  man  could  not  stand  this — but  ap- 
proaching me  with  a  look  somewhat  angry  and  tre- 
mendous— "  Miss  Sophia,"  cried  he — (he  seems  to 
hate  the  name  of  Delmington,  and  never  utters  it  when 
he  can  avoid  it),  "  these  significant  looks,  your  choice 
of  this  song,  the  strange  and  repeated  questions  you 
have  asked  me — what  do  they  all  mean  ?  What  is 
it  you  wish  me  to  understand  by  them  ?" 

"  I  thought  it  best  to  be  honest  with  him  at  once, 
and  therefore  answered  very  calmly — ''  Only  that  I 
am  extremely  curious,  Mr.  Eltham,  and  have  an 
earnest  desire  to  know,  when  the  case  becomes  my 
own,  how  it  will  be  most  proper  and  well-bred  to  dis- 
card an  unsuccessful  lover.  I  am  sure  you  can  give 
me  this  information,  for  your  whole  aspect  tells  that 


108 

you  have  been  discarded,  and  by  one,  I  suspect,  who 
would  do  it  in  the  civilest  way  in  the  world — Miss 
Clarentine  Delmington." 

"  Civil !"  repeated  he,  turning  from  me  and  walk- 
ing about  the  room  in  great  agitation,  "  Civil ! — No  ; 
she  was  imperious,  inhuman !" 

"  So  far,  so  good,"  again  thought  I — "  my  conjec- 
tures were  right,  I  find  !" 

"  Then  assuming  an  air  of  mingled  surprise  and 
concern,  "  Clarentine  deserve  such  an  imputation  ?" 
cried  I — "  Impossible  !  She  is  gentleness  and  good- 
ness itself,  and  I  am  persuaded,  Mr.  Eltham,  to  you 
could  never  behave  with  impropriety." 

"  Is  this  astonishment  real  or  affected  ?"  cried  he^ 
sitting  down  near  the  instrument  and  looking  distrust- 
fully at  me — "  Has  she  not  written  to  you  ?  Has  she 
not  exulted  in  her  scorn,  her  haughtiness,  her  inflex- 
ibility !" 

"  You  amaze  me  !"  cried  I, "  what  should  lead  you 
to  entertain  such  an  opinion  t  She  has  written  to  me, 
it  is  true,  and  to  my  mother  also ;  but  not  one  word 
is  there  in  mtf  letter,  at  least,  that  in  the  most  distant 
degree  relates  to  you." 

"  This  seemed  to  wound  his  pride  more  than  all 
the  rest.  Again  he  arose,  and  renewing  his  quarter- 
deck  walk^  said  in  a  hurried,  indignant  manner,  ''  I 
believe,  indeed,  I  need  have  been  under  no  appre- 
hension that  she  would  take  the  trouble  to  record  her 
cruelty  !  she  murders  unconsciously — and  when  she 
has  stabbed  the  deepest,  turns  from  her  victim  with 
the  cool  unconcern" — 

"Of  a  ^z^/c/i^ry"— interrupted  I — "was  not  that 
what  you  meant  ?" 

"  Angry  as  he  was,  he  seemed  half  tempted  to 
smile  ;  but  repressing  the  unseemly  propensity,  and 
moving  towards  the  door. — "  I  will  leave  you,  Ma- 
dam," cried  he,  "  raillery  upon  this  subject  is  more 
than  I  can  bear !"  and  was  then  actually  going ;  but 


109 

calling  him  back,  and  apologising  very  seriously  for 
my  unseasonable  flippancy,  I  at  length  softened  him, 
and  he  ended  rby  no  means  sorry,  I  believe,  to  have 
an  auditor  so  willing  to  listen  to  him)  by  recounting 
to  me  his  whole  disastrous  story. 

"  I  wish,  dear  Clarentine,  you  could  have  seen  with 
what  a  half-pitying,  half-laughing  countenance  I 
heard  him.  It  was  impossible  to  attend  to  his  im- 
passioned, and  sometimes  almost  frantic  exclama- 
tions and  complaints,  without  being  ready  to  expire  : 
I  contrived,  however,  to  conceal  my  risibility  upon 
the  whole,  pretty  well  ;  but  I  sincerely  hope  I  shall 
never  sit  in  such  misery  again. 

"  I  believe  we  were  together  almost  half  an  hour 
after  he  had  disburdened  his  o^er-fraiight  hearty 
before  Lady  Julia  came  to  us.  Never  was  relief 
more  welcome  !  for  though  his  history  was  concluded, 
his  ravings  still  continued,  and  the  whole  expression 
of  his  countenance  often  assumed  such  a  fierce  and 
savage  cast,  that  seriously  speaking,  I  was  more  than 
once  so  heartily  frightened,  I  would  have  given  the 
world  to  have  been  out  of  the  room  ! 

"  Lady  Julia,  who  had  been  sitting  with  her  father 
in  the  library,  and  did  not  know  I  was  in  the  house 
till  she  saw  me,  pressed  me  extremel}'  to  sta\'^^  din- 
ner, but  that,  not  having  leave  given  me,  I  declined. 
After  sitting  with  her  therefore  as  long  as  I  dared,  I 
went  home  escorted  by  Mr.  Eltham,  who  spent  the 
remainder  of  the  day  with  us. 

"  We  parted  at  night  exceeding  good  friends  ;  but 
if  he  concludes  the  horrible  fright  he  put  me  into  is 
to  pass  unrevenged,  he  is  vronderfuUy  mistaken  !  It 
was  impossible  to  do  any  thing  yesterday  but  appear 
to  pity  him  ;  the  next  time  he  comes,  however,  he 
will  find  me  a  little  less  compassionate.  Are  people  tQ 
be  put  into  fear  of  their  lives  by  every  impatient 
mortified  lover,  who  wears  willow  instead  of  mvrtle  ? 

Vol.  II.  K 


110 

"  I  wanted  extremely  to  make  him  talk  to  me,  as 
we  were  walking  home,  of  Mr.  Somerset,  but  could 
not  manage  it  at  all.  Why  this  shyness  ?  Does  he 
apprehend  in  him  a  rival  ?  Clear  up  this  point  to  me, 
dear  girl,  I  intreat ;  and  write  to  me  a  detailed  ac- 
count of  every  wise  man  or  every  fool  you  see,  ever}'^ 
place  you  go  to,  every  creature  you  visit,  every  plea- 
sure or  disappointment  you  meet  with  ! 

"  Adieu,  my  own  Clarentine.  Your  poor  deserted 
little  Emma,  who  is  the  only  one  in  the  house,  by  the 
way,  that  knows  of  my  having  written  this  mad  let- 
ter, desires  her  tenderest  love  to  you,  and  a  thousand 
grateful  thanks  for  the  charming  books  you  so  kind- 
ly sent  her. 

"  Adieu  again, 

"  Sophia  Delmington." 

The  effect  this  letter  had  upon  Clarentine  was 
much  the  same  with  that  Mr.  Eltham's  own  conduct 
had  always  had  :  it  made  her  congratulate  herself 
upon  the  fortunate  independence  which  had  given  her 
the  power  of  rejecting  him  ;  and  led  her  very  natu- 
rally to  conclude  a  passion  so  indignant  and  so  resent- 
ful was  not  of  a  nature  to  be  very  lasting  in  itself,  or 
very  tender  to  its  object. 

"  Such  a  man,"  cried  she,  "  fiery  and  impetuous — 
always  exacting  implicit  submission  to  his  own  will, 
or  bursting  out  even  with  those  he  ought  either  to  re- 
spect on  account  of  their  age  or  sex,  into  transports 
of  irrational  fury — Oh,  such  a  man  was  not  destined  to 
make  me  happy  !  Far,  far  different  is  my  idea  of  the 
disposition  of  him  I  would  choose  as  a  partner 
through  life.  To  all  the  spirit  and  gallantry  of  youth 
and  courage,  I  would  join  humanity  and  gentleness  ; 
to  an  open  intelligent  countenance,  an  expression  of 
benevolence  and  sensibility ;  to  strong  natural  parts, 
the  most  unpresuming  diffidence  ;   and  to  a  temper  at 


Ill 


once  generous  and  placable,  a  cheerful  gaiety  equa^ 
Iv  distinct  from  turbulence  or  sadness.  Ah  !  wht-re, 
added  she,  "  can  such  an  object  be  found?  or  where, 
when  found,  is  the  reasonable  hope  that  should  lead 
me  to  expect  it  will  ever  be  my  lot  to  be  so  aUiecl  . 
There  is,  there  can  be  upon  earth  but  one  such  cha- 
racter, and  he  who  possesses  it,  is,  I  doubt  not,  lost  to 

me  forever!"  .  ,    i  •   «.:,,^ 

Thus  indulging  the  fond  admiration  and  plair^ue 
regret  she  had  so  often  determined  to  suppress,  Cla- 
rentine,  who   had  hoped    so    much   from  time  and 
change  of  scene,  as  the   hours,  days  and  w-eeks  pass- 
ed  away,   found  that  the    depression  of  her  spirits 
rather  augmented  than  decreased,  and  tne  sadness  o 
her  heart  took  from  her  all  power  of  exertion  and  all 
capacity  of  enjoyment.     No  longer    surroundea  by 
observers  Vhom  she  feared,  those  quick  and  irritable 
feelings  which  had,   of  late,  upon  the  slightest  occa- 
sion, alarmed  her  pride  and  awakened  her  distrust, 
were  succeeded  by  a  quiet  dejection,  a  settled  but  un- 
murmering  gentle  sorrow,  that  penetrated  Mrs.  Uen- 
bigh  with  compassion.  She  saw  that  her  young  friend, 
pale,  languid  and  oppressed,  lost  her  health  as  well  as 
her  animation,  and  that  although  too  rational  to  de- 
cline partaking  in  the   amusements  that  were  propo- 
sed to  her,  she  yet  found  no  real  amusement  or  reliet 
in  any  thing.     The  discovery  gave  her  pam  in  pro- 
portion  to  the  warmth  and  sincerity  of  the  truly  matci- 
nal  regard  she  had   conceived  for  her ;  and  deter- 
mining, if  possible,  to  counteract  this  dangerous  turn 
of  mind,  she  seized  the  first  opportunity  that  pre- 
sented itself  of  attempting  by   friendly  admonitions 
and  remonstrances  to   reason  her  into  greater  hrm- 

ness.  .  , 

"  My  Clarentine,"  said  she,  one  morning  as  they 
were  sitting  at  breakfast,  "  I  have  a  proposal  to  make 
to  you  :  this  place,  contrary  to  my  expectuuons, 
seems  to  disagree  with  you  so  much,  that  I  cannot 


112 


bear  to  be  the  occasion  of  prolonging  your  stay  atitf 
and  therefore  next  week  we  will  go  back  to  town." 

"  Dear  Madam,"  cried  Clarentine,  alarmed  at  the 
very  mention  of  such  a  scheme,  "  why  so?  Happy 
or  gay  I  expect  not  to  be  any  where;  but  here,  at 
ieast,  1  am  tranquil ;  and  as  for  my  health,  that  can 
cleriye  nothmg  but  benefit  from    the    air  and  situa- 


lion 


But  how   IS  It  then,"  resumed  Mrs.  Denbigh, 
that  acknowledging  thus  readily  the  value  of  tran- 
quilhty    you  yet  suffer  yourself  to    droop  and  pine 
with  so  little  fortitude  and  so  little  strength  of  mind  ? 
Clarentine,  such  weakness   is   unworthy  of  you?  it 
renders  useless  every  acquirement  you  possess,  and 
every  good  quality  with  which  you  are   gifted :  de- 
generates  what  was  once  female   softness,   blended 
with  spirit  and  sound    sense,  into    inertion   and  su- 
pmeness  ;  and  will,  I  fear,  in  time  degrade  you  into 
a  mere  languishing  enervated  love-sick  girl?  Is  your 
case,  my  young  friend,  a  new   one  ?   Oh  no  '—How 
many  notable  and  contented  old  women  there  now 
are,  attending  duly  to  the   domestic   occupations  of 
their  household,  scolding  their  maids,  whipping  their 
children,  snarling  at  their  husbands,  and  sitting  in 
judgment  upon  their  neighbours,  who  once,  like  you  * 
were  sunk  in  listlessness  and  apathy,  and  thought  no 
pleasure  equal  to  that  of  elegantly  indulging  their  ro- 
mantle  despondence  !" 

"  Ah,  my  dear  Madam,"  cried  Clarentine,  who 
had  listened  to  this  speech  with  alternate  blushes  and 
smiles,  "is  mine  an  affection  that  deserves  thus  to  be 
severely  censured  ?  You  well  know  it  has  not  been 
the  mere  work  of  an  idle  imagination,  seeking  anx- 
iously, yet  selecting  unworthily,  some  object  of  fan- 
cied perfection  on  whom  to  bestow  unqualified  and 
enthusiastic  admiration ;  on  the  contrary,  it  is  a  sen- 
timent that  stole  upon  me  gradually  and  impercep- 
tibly ;   which,  though  never  intentionally  cherished, 


grew  with  my  growth  and  strengthened  with  my 
strength.  I  was  yet  a  mere  child,  helpless  and  de- 
pendant, when  William  Somerset,  at  an  age  when 
most  boys  fly  from  a  nursery  with  disdain  and  hor- 
ror, was  my  watchful  friend  and  only  companion  : 
we  parted  long  e'er  I  knew  the  value  of  such  an  as- 
sociate, but  not  before,  in  remembrance  of  his  inva- 
riable kindness,  my  heart  was  attached  to  him  with 
the  warmest  gratitude.  In  my  second  asylum  I  found 
another  friend,  and  companions  whom  I  soon  learnt 
to  love  with  nearly  equal  tenderness  :  here,  however, 
the  affection  I  met  with  in  return,  though  cordial,  I 
believe,  and  sincere,  had  neither  the  stability,  the 
gentleness,  or  the  indulgence  of  that  I  had  been  used 
to  from  him.  Edgar,  who  was  the  one  at  that  time 
oftenest  with  me,  was  frequently  unjust  and  petulant ; 
a  moment  of  unintentional  neglect,  a  childish  or  hasty 
reproach,  would  irritate  and  offend  him  so  deeply, 
that  perhaps  during  a  whole  day  he  would  neither 
speak  to  me,  nor  listen  to  any  excuse  ;  his  sisters,  en- 
grossed by  other  objects,  of  course,  had  no  leisure 
to  bestow  upon  me  that  degree  of  attention  to  which, 
unfortunately,  I  had  been  accustomed  ;  so  that  often 
in  the  midst  of  playfellows  of  my  own  age,  in  the 
midst  of  society  and  cheerfuhu^s,  I  felt  desolate  and 
unhappy." 

"  A  fatal  tendency  to  encourage  causeless  repin- 
ings,  seems  to  have  been  your  bane  through  life," 
said  Mrs.  Denbigh,  here  interrupirfg  her — "  but  go 
on  with  your  little  history,  and  forgive  this  abrupt 
comment." 

"  Rather  call  it  my  apolog-y^^''  said  Clarentine,  smi- 
ling, "  I  have  not  much  more,  however,  to  add  ;  nor 
ought  the  recapitulation  of  our  own  feelings  to  take 
up  a  great  deal  of  time.  Is  there  one  amongst  us, 
who,  minutely  describing  every  past  emotion  of  their 
mind,  could  not  make  up,  as  I  have  done,  a  tedious 
dissertation  upon  nothing  ?" 
K2 


114 

"  Well,  well,  go  on,  I  tell  you,"  cried  Mrs.  Den- 
bigh, with  a  sort  of  impatient  pleasantry,  *'  go  on, 
and  whatever  compliments  I  can  spare  shall  come  af- 
terwards." 

Clarentine  laughed  at  this  speech,  and  thus  conti- 
nued— 

"  Several  years  now  passed,  during  which,  except 
by  letter,  my  friendly  William  and  I  had  no  inter- 
course. At  length  he  came  down  into  Devonshire 
upon  a  visit  in  our  neighbourhood,  and  stopped,  he 
said,  at  his  fat  he  r^s^  but  I  doubt  not  at  his  oxvn  insti- 
gation, to  visit  and  enquire  after  his  former  little  in- 
mate. An  accident  not  worth  relating  now,  prevent- 
ed my  seeing  him  till  after  he  had  quitted  the  house  ; 
he  found  me  fainting  and  senseless  upon  the  road  as 
he  was  driving  through  the  village,  and  in  that  con- 
dition carried  me  back  in  his  carriage  to  Delmington 
House.  Never,  oh,  never  can  I  forget,  child  as  I 
yet  was,  the  look  of  tenderness  and  solicitude  with 
which,  when  recovering,  I  beheld  him  standing  mo- 
tionless before  me  !  It  was  a  look  that  penetrated  my 
very  soul,  and  would  alone  have  taught  me  to  love 
him,  had  not  his  previous  behaviour  already  dispo- 
sed and  his  subsequent  conduct  compelled  me  to  it ! 
Again,  however,  we  parted,  but  not  for  the  length  of 
time  we  had  been  separated  before  ;  he  returned  to 
us  more  kind,  more  animated,  more  generously  in- 
terested in  all  that  related  to  me  than  I  had  even  dared 
hope  to  find  him,  and  during  the  two  days  he  staid, 
treated  me  with  a  conciliating  sweetness,  a  more  than 
fraternal  partiality,  that  left  upon  me,  at  his  depar- 
ture, a  melancholy  and  regret  I  scarce  knew  how  to 
conquer." 

"  Well,"  cried  Mrs.  Denbigh,  again  breaking  in 
upon  Clarentine's  little  narrative,  "  all  this,  I  confess, 
was  flattering  and  insinuating ;  but,  my  dearest  girl, 
have  you  not  in  Sir  Edgar  Delmington,  in  a  young 
man  whose   passions   must  necessarily  be  so  much 


115 


more  ungovernable  than  your  own,  an  example  of 
fortitude  and  self-command  that  ought  to  stimulate 
you  to  emulation  ?  He  too,  I  have  been  told,  knew  you 
from  your  infancy,  was  brought  up  in  the  same  house 
with  you,  and  cherished  for  years  the  most  fervent 
and  animated  affection  for  you.  Duty,  reason,  and 
honour,  however,  enabled  him  to  conquer  this  early 
and  habitual  prepossession  :  and  in  a  case  exactly 
parallel  to  your  own,  made  of  him,  at  once,  a  hero 
and  a  philosopher !  Are  ijour  feelings,  though  less 
tumultuous,  more  insurmountable  ?  Let  it  not  be 
thought !  Exert  your  courage,  dissipate  your  mind, 
trv  every  experiment  that  the  ingenuity  of  woman 
can  devise,  to  prove  that  an  opinion  so  humiliating  is 
groundless  and  erroneous  !" 

u The  counsel,"  said  Clarentine  sighing,  "is  good, 
and  I  will  endeavour — I  have  endeavoured,  always 
to  act  as  if  in  pursuance  of  its  dictates  :  yet,  my  dear- 
est M'ldam,  similar  as  the  two  cases  may  appear, 
there  is,  however,  a  wide  difference  between  the  part 
that  Edgar  had  to  perform,  and  that  which  is  now 
assigned  to  me.  From  the  first  moment  he  dis- 
covered to  me  his  unauthorised  partiality,  I  dealt 
openly  and  frankly  with  him  ;  and  readily,  gladly  as 
I  would  have  promised  him  my  friendship,  denied 
him  all  claim  to  mv  love.  Have  /been  treated  with 
equal  candour?  Oh  no  !  Such  ungenerous,  unremit- 
ting pains  have  been  taken  to  lead  me  into  a  belief  I 
was  beloved,  that,  till  my  own  observation,  and  yet 
more  convincingly  the  explicit  avowal  of  Mrs.  Hert- 
ford, told  me  I  deceived  myself,  every  action,  every 
look,  seemed  calculated  to  infuse  into  me  a  positive 
certainty  of  Somerset's  attachment!  Ah!  wonder 
not  then,  that  whilst  entertaining  so  flattering  an  il- 
lusion, the  high  opinion  I  had  of  his  honour  and  in- 
tegrity lulled  all  vigilance  to  sleep,  and  left  me  nei- 
ther power  or  inclination  to  resist  the  grateful  affec- 
tion I  felt  for  him  !  I  beheld  him  as  a  man  who  from 


116 

infancy  had  loved  me— who  seemed  to  have  no  de- 
sire so  earnest  as  that  of  promoting  my  happiness— 
as  him,  in  short,  by  whom  it  was  finally  destined  to 
be  assured !" 

At  that  moment  their  conversation  was  interrupt- 
ed by  the  entrance  of  Mrs.  Denbigh's  servant  who 
brought  Clarentine  a  letter ;  it  came  by  the  post,  and 
was  directed  in  Somerset's  hand.  She  received  it 
With  a  degree  of  agitation  she  scarce  knew  how  to 
conceal  ;  and  laying  it  down  upon  the  table  by  her 
as  soon  as  they  were  again  left  by  themselves,  said 
to  Mrs.  Denbigh — 
^    ^'*  The  writing  is  Somerset's— I  almost  fear  to  open 

"  Give  it  me  then,"  said  that  lady,  smiling— "and 
It  It  IS  veri/  treacherous  and  vejy  tender,  I  will  burn 
It  without  suffering  you  to  read  it." 

Clarentine  hesitated  a  moment,  and  then  holding 
It  out  to  her,  "  Ah  !  why  does  he  write  to  me  at  all  ?'' 
cried  she  :  "There— take  it,  dear  madam,  andif  I  can 
help  It,  I  will  not  even  rvh/i  to  know  its  contents." 

"  Come,  come,"  cried  Mrs.  Denbigh,  "  I  begin  to 
have  some  hopes  of  you  !  This  is  the  most  rational 
thing  you  have  done  yet."  She  then  opened  the  let- 
ter, and  began  reading  to  herself;  while  Clarentine, 
with  her  eyes  fixed  upon  her  face,  sat  earnestly  ob- 
serving her,  b}  turns  reproaching  and  applauding  her- 
self for  the  facility  with  which  she  had  resigned  a  pri- 
vilege which  would  once  have  been  so  precious  to 
her. 

When  Mrs.  Denbigh  had  ceased  reading,  "  Here, 
my  dear,"  said  she,  "  take  back  your  letter ;  it  con- 
tains a  request  which  no  one  but  vourself  can  answer." 

"A  request !"  repeated  Clarentine,  starting  and 
blushing  ;  "  To  me  !  Of  .vhat  nature  ?  What  request  ?" 

"  Nay, nay,  my  love,"  resumed  Mrs.  Denbigh  very 
calmly,  "  don't  put  yourself  into  such  tremors  ;  the 
favour  he  asks  is  as  trifling  as  his  style  is  simple  and 
proper ;  see  what  he  says  yourself,  therefore." 


117 

Clarentine  held  out  an  unsteady  hand  for  the  let- 
ter, and  read  as  follows  : 

MISS  DELMINGTON. 

CliflTord-street,  December. 

"  I  am  unwilling  to  suppose,  my  dearest  Miss  Del- 
mington,  that  our  parting,  though  abrupt,  was  there- 
fore unfriendly ;  and  as  you  prohibited  not  my  wri- 
ting, take  the  liberty  to  address  to  you  a  little  petition 
it  will  give  me  the  utmost  pleasure  to  hear  you  re- 
ceive with  indulgence. 

"  Since  you  left  town  I  have  been  down  a  few  days 
in  Northamptonshire,  and  purpose  going  thither 
again  during  Christmas  week  with  a  party  of  friends, 
two  of  whom  mean  afterwards  to  spend  a  short  time 
at  Bath.  I  dare  not  presume  to  accompany  them  ! 
but  if,  when  they  have  left  me,  I  should  direct  my 
wandering  course  to  Delmington  House,  would  you, 
my  gentle  friend,  whilst  I  am  there,  favour  me  with 
a  letter  of  introduction  to  your  amiable  Madame 
d'Arzele  ?  I  have  the  most  earnest  desire  to  see  and 
become  acquainted  with  her  ;  and  under  whose  aus- 
pices could  I  hope  for  a  more  indulgent  reception, 
than  under  those  of  her  young  and  lovely  benefac- 
tress ? 

"  You  appeared  at  your  departure  indisposed,  dis- 
pirited, and,  I  fear,  unhappy :  write  to  me  I  beseech 
you ;  tell  me  you  are  better  ;  that  the  air  of  Bath 
agrees  with  you  ;  and  that,  although  compelled  to 
suffer  by  your  absence,  I  have  nothing  to  apprehend 
for  your  health ! 

"  Present  my  best  respects  to  Mrs.  Denbigh  :  she 
is  my  friend,  and  I  hope  will  assist  in  determining 
you  to  grant  my  request. 

"  Adieu,  and  may  all  happiness  attend  you  ! 

"  William  Somerset." 


118 

The  extreme  surprise  with  which  Cl^rentine  peru- 
sed this  letter  kept  her  silent  some  minutes  after  she 
had  concluded  it ;  at  length,  however,  pointing  to 
these  words,  /  purpose  going  thither  again  during 
Christmas  xveek^  she  said,  with  a  look  of  incredulity^ 
"  Do  you  believe.  Madam,  ht-  has  really  such  an  in- 
tention ?  Do  you  believe  he  will  again,  and  for  so 
long,  quit  Mrs.  Hertford  ?" 

"  I  always  believed  every  thing  that  a  man  of  ho- 
nour told  me,"  answered  Mrs.  Denbigh,  "except,  in- 
deed, his  vows  of  perpetual  constancy  !  What  such 
repeated  journeyings  can  mean,  however,  I  acknow- 
ledge it  is  beyond  my  power  of  comprehension  to 
find  out." 

"  Thus,"  cried  Clarentine,  sighing,  "  has  he  ever 
been — mysterious  and  unfathomable.  Oh!  that  this 
painful  suspense  were  over  !  that  at  length,  he  was 
actually  married,  and  all  doubt  of  his  attachment  for 
ever  at  an  end  !" 

"'A  decisive  way,  it  must  be  owned,  of  termina- 
ting suspense  !"  cried  Mrs.  Denbigh  :  "  I  did  not 
think,  Clarentine,  you  had  resolution  to  form  so  sen- 
sible a  wish.  But  let  me  hear  what  you  design  to  do 
concerning  the  letter  he  requests  you  to  wri^e  for 
him.     Shall  you  send  it  ?"  * 

"  Undoubtedly  j  and  the  more  readily,  as  I  know 
it  will  give  infinite  pleasure  to  my  excellent  Madame 
d'Arzele  to  see  him.  On  his  first  arrival  he  was  the 
constant  theme  of  all  my  letters  to  her,  and  she  has 
often  expressed  great  concern  at  the  idea  it  was  so 
unlikely  she  should  ever  be  acquainted  with  him." 

Mrs.  Denbigh  now  arose,  and  asked  her  whether 
she  would  accompany  her  on  a  morning  visit  to  Mrs. 
Westbury. 

"  No,  my  dear  Madam,  not  to-day,  if  you  please  : 
my  mind  is  unusually  occupied  and  perplexed,  and 
just  now  I  can  think  of  nothing  but  this  strange  let- 
ter." 


119 

"  Well  then,"  said  Mrs.  Denbigh,  "  I  will  leave 
you,  for  the  present,  to  your  own  contemplations  ;  but 
in  the  evening  I  am  determined  you  shall  go  to  the 
assembly — and  what  is  more,"  added  she,  '^  you  shall 
dance  with  your  little  favourite,  Johnny  Westbury, 
if  he  will  have  you!" 

Clarentine,  not  believing  this  speech  had  any  real 
meaning,  made  no  opposition  to  the  plan,  and  soon 
after  Mrs.  Denbigh  left  her. 


CHAPTER  XIX. 

AT  dinner,  when  Mrs.  Denbigh  returned — "Well, 
Clarentine,"  cried  she,  "  I  have  made  a  party  for  you 
to-night,  and  Johnny  has  half  promised,  provided  a 
certain  Hon.  Miss  Somebody,  sister  to  a  certain  Lord 
Somebody,  does  not  make  her  appearance  in  the  ball- 
room till  after  the  two  first  dances  are  over,  he  will 
do  himself  the  honour  to  go  down  them  with  you." 

"  He  is  really  too  obliging !"  said  Clarentine, 
laughing ;  "  but,  dear  Madam,  is  it  true  you  have 
made  this  party  ?" 

"  Yes,  perfectly  true.  I  met  Mrs.  and  Miss  Man- 
ners at  Mrs.  Westbury's,  and  they  have  promised  to 
call  for  you  at  the  proper  hour.  Before  you  go, 
however,  I  desire  I  may  see  you  with  all  your  j)lumes 
and  decorations  :  I  am  a  prodigious  judge  of  modern 
dress  you  knov/,  and  therefore,  lest  Johnny  should 
criticise  your  taste,  come  and  consult  mine  previous 
to  his  seeing  you." 

"  I  am  afraid,"  said  Clarentine,  smiling,  "  a  dress 
so  simple  as  that  I  shall  wear  will  neither  be  worth 
your  attention.  Madam,  or  Mr.  Westbury's." 

"  Well,  no  matter  how  simple  it  is,  if,  according 
to  Johnny's  opinion,  it  is  hut  fashionable :  he  would 
expire  at  the  idea  of  dancing  with  you,  if  you  had 


120 

one  grain  too  little  or  too  much  powder  in  your  hair, 
or  half  a  straw's-breadth  too  long  or  too  short  a  waist !" 

"  I  will  endeavour  then,"  said  Clarentine,  "  to  be 
as  correct  in  all  these  matters  as  I  can;  but  really  I 
know  so  little  of  the  business  of  a  toilet  that  I  am 
afraid  I  shall  succeed  very  ill  at  last." 

"  In  that  case,"  cried  Mrs.  Denbigh,  "  I  don't 
know  what  people  can  do  better  than  persuade  them-' 
selves  to  like  you  for  your  originality.  A  young  wo- 
man in  these  days,  who  is  a  novice  in  the  science  of 
dress,  is  so  extraordinary  a  creature,  that  she  ought, 
I  think,  to  be  admired  as  a  curiosity." 

They  then  separated,  and  Clarentine  went  to  pre- 
pare for  the  evening. 

At  the  hour  appointed  the  two  ladies,  who  had 
been  engaged  to  go  with  her,  and  whom  she  had  se- 
veral times  seen  before  at  Mrs.  Westbury's,  called 
for  her  in  their  own  carriage,  and  they  all  proceeded 
to  the  assembly-room. 

This  was  the  first  evening  that  Clarentine  had  ever 
been  in  public,  except,  since  she  had  been  at  Bath, 
once  or  twice  with  Mrs.  Denbigh  at  the  play.  The 
confusion  she  expected,  however,  to  experience,  the 
extreme  fulness  of  the  place  effectually  prevented  : 
the  last  week  had  brought  down  an  incredible  num- 
ber of  people,  all  of  whom  appeared  to  be  concentra- 
ted in  that  one  spot :  consequently,  no  particular  par- 
ty could  be  more  conspicuous  than  another,  but  each 
seemed  to  have  met  there  for  the  sole  purpose  of  be- 
ing crowded  and  incommoded. 

^'  Oh,  how  much  preferable,"  thought  Clarentine, 
"  were  our  little  social  and  cheerful  balls  at  Delming- 
ton,  to  this  dull,  yet  bustling  scene  !" 

Soon  after  a  tall,  fine  young  man,  whose  counte- 
nance was  animated  and  pleasing,  and  who  had  for 
some^time  been  engaged  in  observing  them  as  they 
slowly  advanced,  contrived  to  approach  Miss  Man- 
ners, who  had  hold  of  Clarentine's  arm,  and  said  to 


121 

her  in  a  low  voice,  yet  loud  enough  to  be  overheard, 
"  will  you  introduce  me,  Louisa  ?" 

"  Yes,  certainly  :" — then  turning  to  Clarentine — 
"  allow  me,  my  dear  Miss  Delmington,"  added  she, 
'^  to  present  my  brother  to  you." — 

Clarentine  curtsied,  and  Mr.  Manners  very  po- 
litely addressing  her,  said — "  I  fear.  Miss  Delming- 
ton, that  any  application  to  you  for  the  honour  of 
your  hand  this  evening,  would  now  come  too  late  : 
you  are  probably  engaged  already?" 

"  Indeed,"  replied  Clarentine,  half-laughing,  "  I 
scarcely  know  whether  I  am  or  not." 

"  And  who,"  said  Mr.  Manners,  with  some  sur- 
prise, "  is  the  extraordinary  personage  that  can  leave 
you  in  doubt  upon  such  a  subject?" 

Clarentine  then  related  to  him  the  sort  of  half  en- 
gagement Mrs.  Denbigh  had  formed  for  her  in  the 
morning ;  upon  which,  Mr.  Manners  brightening  up, 
said  with  a  smile — "  I  may  then  safely.  Madam,  re- 
new my  solicitation ;  since  I  can  assure  you  it  is  not 
ten  minutes  ago,  that  I  heard  Mr.  Westbury  engage 
one  of  Lady  A 's  daughters,  who  had  just  en- 
tered with  her  mother." 

Clarentine  laughed,  and  by  no  means  sorry  to  be 
released  from  such  a  partner,  very  readily  gave  her 
hand  to  Mr.  Manners,  and  suffered  him  to  lead  her 
towards  the  dancers. 

Whilst  they  stood  up,  it  was  impossible  to  engage 
in  any  regular  conversation  ;  but  after  a  long  and 
confused  dance,  Mr.  Manners  seeing  her  look  ex- 
tremely fatigued,  exerted  himself  to  pnjcure  for  her 
a  seat,  and  conducting  her  to  it,  hast  :ned  to  bring  l-er 
some  refreshment,  and  then  placed  himself 'nexi  her 
during  the  remainder  of  tht;  evening. 

His  conversation  was  lively  and  agreeable,  and 
Clarentine  found  herself  so  well  disposed  to  like  him, 
that  her  spirits  were  insensibly  revived  by  his  atten- 

VoL.  IL  '        L 


*;5i:\ 


122 

tion,  and  her  answers  to  all  his  gay  remarks  were 
made  with  a  cheerfulness  nearly  equal  to  his  own. 

After  some  general  discourse  of  this  animated  kind, 
addressing  her  somewhat  more  seriously — "  May  I 
ask  Miss  Delmington,"  said  he,  "  what  stay  she  de- 
signs making  in  this  place  ?" 

"  It  is  very  probable,"  answered  Clarentine,  "  I 
may  yet  be  here  three  weeks." — "  And  may  I  tell 
her,"  resumed  he,  "  what  the  interested  motive  was 
that  led  me  to  venture  such  an  enquiry  ?" 

"  If  you  please — certainly." 

"  Why  then,"  said  he,  "  I  wished  to  know  whether 
at  my  return  from  a  short  visit  I  am  upon  the  point 
of  making  in  Northamptonshire,  I  might  flatter  my- 
self with  the  hope  of  still  finding  you  here." 

"  In  Northamptonshire  ?"  repeated  Clarentine,  with 
a  faint  blush — "  And  whom,  may  I  ask,  are  you  ac- 
quainted with  in  Northamptonshire  ?" 

"  One  of  the  oldest  friends  I  have.  Captain  So- 
merset, has  a  seat  in  that  county,"  answered  Mr. 
Manners. 

An  involuntary  half-sigh  escaped  Clarentine  at 
these  words,  and  an  air  of  thoughtfulness  once  more 
overspreading  her  but  lately  re-animated  countenance, 
she  sunk  into  a  total,  but  unconscious  silence. 

Mr.  Manners  sat  some  minutes  unsuspectedly  ob- 
serving her ;  at  length,  however,  addressing  her  again, 
♦'  I  believe,"  said  he,  **  I  have  the  pleasure,  in  Miss 
Delmington,  to  see  a  relation  and  a  ward  of  Captain 
Somerset's  ?" 

Clarentine  only  bowed. 

"  You  have  seen  him  lately,  I  presume?" 

*'  No,  Sir,  not not  very  lately." 

"  But,  however,  you  can  assist  me  in  the  solution 
of  a  mystery  I  am  very  anxious  to  have  explained. 
Pray  what  has  he  been  doing  with  himself  all  this 
winter  ?  Is  he,  as  has  been  reported,  upon  the  point 


123 

of  marriage  ;  and  to  his  fair  mistress,  is  it,  his  friends 
must  attribute  his  long  silence  and  neglect?" 

Clarentine's  varying  colour  during  this  speech  al- 
most betrayed  her ;  and  the  hesitating  and  embar- 
rassed manner  in  which  she  answered  him,  yet  more 
strongly  denoted  her  emotion — 

''  I  believe—I  fancy,"  said  she,  «  he  is  going— he 
will  be  soon  married." 

"  And  what  sort  of  a  woman  is  the  lady  he  has  se- 
lected ?  You  doubtless  know  her  ?" 

"  Yes  a  little." 

"  Is  she  agreeable." 

Scarcely  sensible  of  what  she  w^as  saying,  "  I  can't 
tell,"  answered  the  distressed'Clarentine. 

Mr.  Manners  laughed — "  Upon  my  word,"  cried 
he, "  such  a  reply  is  not  much  calculated  to  give  a  very 
high  opinion  of  the  lady's  merit !  I  should  be  sorry  to 
suppose,  however,  added  he,  more  gravely,  *'  that 
Mr.  Somerset  had  made  a  choice  that  was  unworthy 
of  him." 

Clarentine  upon  this,  recovering  greater  presence 
of  mind,  compelled  herself  to  say,  though  in  a  low 
and  almost  inarticulate  voice — "  I  meant  no  reflec- 
tion. Sir,  upon  the  lady,  believe  me  ;  but,  as  I  told 
you,  knowing  very  little  of  her,  I  am  ill  qualified  to 
decide  upon  her  character.  She  is  generally  thought, 
I  believe,  remarkably  agreeable." 

"  Well,"  cried  Mr.  Manners — "  I  shall  certainly 
endeavour  to  see  her  when  next  I  go  to  town.  There 
is  no  man  in  whose  happiness  I  take  a  greater  inter- 
est than  in  Somerset's  ;  and  no  man,  I  am  convinced, 
who  deserves  happiness  more." 

This  conversation  was  here  to  Clarentine's  infi- 
nite relief,  interrupted  by  young  Westbury,  who, 
after  leading  his  partner  to  a  seat  with  the  most  ob- 
sequious respect,  negligently  approached  Clarentine, 
and  said — 

"  So,  you  have  not  danced  at  all,  Ma'am,  this 
evening?" 


124 

''Not,  at  least,  with  the  cruel  Mr.  Westtfury," 
said  Mr.  Manners,  with  a  laugh — 

.  "  Cruel !"  repeated  he — "  No,  upon  honour,  that 
was'n't  it !     The  fact  is,  I  have  been  engaged, — that 

is  conditionally  engaged,  to  Miss  A ,  these  three 

days." 

"  And  the  condition  was,  I  suppose,  Mr.  West- 
bury,"  said  Clarentine,  archly,  <'<-  that  you  were  to  re- 
nounce her,  if  an  Earl's  or  a  Duke's  daughter  claim- 
ed you  in  her  stead  !" 

"  I  am  sorry  to  hear  such  a  partial  account  of  your 
gallantry,  Westbury  ;"  cried  Mr.  Manners,  shaking 
his  head — "  a  poor  miserable  commoner  like  me  will 
be  afraid  to  speak  to  you  soon !" 

"  Pshaw,  pshaw,  what  nonsense  you  talk !"  cried 
the  young  coxcomb,  taking  out  his  glass  and  begin- 
ning very  critically  to  examine  a  party  of  ladies  w^ho 
just  then  were  passing. 

"  Pray,  Mr.  Westbury,"  said  Clarentine,  selecting 
from  amongst  them  one  who  was  remarkably  prett}', 
"  what  do  you  think  of  that  young  lady  ?" 

"  She's  very  well — but  her  hair  is  not  turned  up 
high  enough' — you  don't  see  enough  of  the  contour 
of  her  throat." 

"  Well,  but  what  do  you  say  to  the  one  who  is 
walking  next  her  ?" 

"  Her  waist  is  hideous — and  those  long  sleeves  are 
entirely  out." 

''  A  little  beyond,  however,"  said  Mr.  Manners, 
'^  is  a  lady  whose  very  elbows  are  bare — what's  your 
opinion  of  her  ?" 

"  She's  better — something  better  ;  but  there's  no 
ease,  no  baid  in  her  form :  she's  as  upright  as  a  dart 
— there's  nothing  picturesque  about  her  !" 

Mr.  Manners,  now  casting  his  eyes  tow  ards  a  poor 
girl  who  was  extremely  deformed,  and  yet  dressed 
in  the  most  extravagant  height  of  the  ton — "  What  do 
you  say  to  that  fair  nymph,  Westbury  ?"  cried  he— 
^^  she  has  bend  enough,  I  hope  f" 


125 

4 

"  Why  she's  not  amiss,  really,  considering  ;  there's 
taste  in  the  arrangement  of  her  dress,  and  upon  the 
whole  she-  positively  looks  like  a  girl  of  fashion." 

Here  Mr.  Manners  and  Clarentine,  unable  to  pre- 
serve their  gravity  any  longer,  both  burst  at  the  same 
moment  into  a  laugh,  which  offended  the  poor  con- 
noisseur so  much,  that  completely  discomfited,  he 
turned  upon  his  heel  and  abruptly  walked  away. 

"  Was  there  ever  so  absurd  a  puppy !"  at  length 
exclaimed  Mr.  Manners,  following  him  with  a  con- 
temptuous look  as  he  crossed  the  room — "  I've  no 
patience  with  the  vain  idiot  !'*  *" 

"  d,  bless  me,"  cried  Clarentine,  "  do  not  bestow 
upon  the  poor  little  man  such  serious  indignation  ! 
I  think  he  is  extremely  entertaining ;  and  to  me  his. 
character  is  quite  new." 

"  In  what  enviable  retreat  have  you  then  lived," 
said  Mr.  Manners,  "  where  these  pfests  of  society 
gained  no  admittance  ?" 

"  I  have  spent  "  answered  she,  laughing,  "  the 
greatest  part  of  my  life  in  Devonshire." 

"  O,  happy  Devonshire  !  and  thrice  happy  all  its 
favoured  inhabitants  !  Must  /  despair  of  ever  ob- 
taining a  refuge  there  ?  If  you  have  any  pity.  Miss 
Delmington,  take  me  in  your  suite  when  next  \^oii 
go." 

"  What,  and  deprive  the  world  of  so  willing  an 
admonisher!  I  would  not  be  accessary  to  such  an 
evil  on  any  account." 

During  this  speech,  Clarentine,  in  taking  her  hand- 
kerchief out  of  her  pocket,  let  drop  without  perceiv- 
ing it  a  little  silver  trinket,  which,  as  it  fell,  ringing 
slightly  upon  the  ground,  caught  Mr.  Manners's  at- 
tention, and  made  him  stoop  to  take  it  up.  He  look- 
ed at  it  very  attentively  a  minute  before  he  either 
spoke,  or  she  knew  what  he  held  j  and  then  present- 
ing it  to  her  with  a  smile — 

'*  Why,"  said  he,  "  where  Certainty  should  reside, 
L  2 


126 

is  Hop€  substituted  in  her  place  ?  Why  does  Miss 
Delmington  carry  about  with  her  an  emblem  she 
should  resign  to  those  children  of  nature  who  are 
less  partially  endowed  ?" 

Clarentine,  who  at  first  had  not  attended  to  what 
he  offered  her,  now  casting  her  eyes  upon  it,  colour- 
ed violently,  and  eagerly  seizing  it,  put  it  back  into 
her  pocket ;  at  the  same  moment  rising,  and  hastily 
saying—- 

"  Can  you  imagine  where  your  sister  is  ?" 

"  No,"  answered  he  following  her,  "  but  if  you 
will  lend  me  your  anchor  to  rest  my  hopes  upon  du- 
ring the  toilsome  search,  I  will  go  in  pursuit  of  her.'* 

"  I  would  not  wish,"  said  Clarentine,  attempting 
to  laugh,  ^"  you  should  rest  them  upon  so  feeble  a 
support." 

"  To  obtain  hope  from  you  then,  any  way  but  by 
surprise,  is,  I  perceive,  impossible  !  Pray,  did  Cap- 
tain Somerset  teach  you  the  importance  of  that  inva- 
luable symbol? — was  it  his  gift?" 

"  No,  no,"  cried  Clarentine,  turning  away  from 
his  arch  enquiring  eyes  in  great  confusion,  "  it  was 
not  indeed  !" 

Mr.  Manners,  seeing  her  look  really  disconcerted, 
had  too  much  good-nature  to  pursue  the  subject ;  but 
whenever,  in  the  course  of  the  evening,  her  eyes 
again  met  his,  she  beheld  in  them  an  expression  of 
comic  significance,  that  abashed  her  so  much,  she 
was  obliged  immediately  to  look  another  way. 

When  they  were  going,  and  he  was  leading  her  to 
the  carriage — 

"  Captain  Somerset,  I  presume,"  said  he,  "  in  his 
province  of  guardian,  has  the  happiness  of  corre- 
sponding with  you,  and  therefore.  Miss  Delmington, 
if  I  request  to  be  made  the  bearer  of  any  letter  you 
may  wish  to  send  him,  I  hope  I  shall  not  be  thought 
impertinent." 

Clarentine,  endeavouring  to  speak  with  steadiness, 
said— 


127 

"  When,  Sir,  do  you  set  out  ?" 

'^  On  Thursday  morning,  and,  if  I  have  your  per- 
mission, to-morrow  I  will  do  myself  the  honour  to 
call  for  your  despatches." 

They  were  now  at  the  coach  door,  and  Clarentine 
had  only  time  to  bow  her  thanks,  before,  having  hand- 
ed her  in,  he  wished  her  good  night,  and  returned 
to  the  ball-room. 

Provoked  at  her  own  unguarded  behaviour,  and 
extremely  mortified  at  the  idea  of  having  given  rise 
to  any  strange  conjectures  in  Mr.  Manners,  Claren- 
tine was  absent  and  silent  the  whole  way  home,  and 
spent  a  night  of  unusual  restlessness  and  disturbance. 
Half  dreading,  yet  half  wishing  to  see  him  the  next 
day,  she  determined,  by  the  assumed  tranqiyllity  with 
which  she  meant  to  listen  to  all  he  could  say,  even 
concerning  Somerset,  to  dispel  every  suspicion  he 
might  entertain,  and  prevent  every  remark  he  might 
promulgate.  The  anchor^  (Lady  Julia's  former  gift) 
which  had  unfortunately  excited  so  many  embarrass- 
ing reflections,  she  immediately  locked  up,  almost 
tempted  (diminished  in  her  eyes  as  at  this  time  was 
its  illusive  value)  to  throw  it  wholly  away.  She  had 
hitherto  kept  it  expressly  in  remembrance  of  Somer- 
set ;  but  so  earnestly  did  she  now  wish  to  drive  him 
from  her  thoughts,  that  even  this  trifling  memorial 
she  thought  it  almost  wrong  to  preserve. 

At  breakfast  the  next  morning,  when  Mrs.  Den- 
bigh asked  for  an  account  of  her  ball,  she  faithfully 
related  to  her  all  that  had  passed,  and  prepared  her 
for  the  visitor  they  were  to  expect  :  after  which,  sit- 
ting down  to  write  to  Somerset,  she  shewed  her, 
when  she  had  concluded  it,  the  following  cold  and 
formal  epistle. 


128 
CAPT.  SOMERSET. 

Bath,  December, 

"  Dear  Sir — The  letter  you  wish  to  deliver  to 
Madame  d'Arzele  in  my  name,  I  shall  be  happy  to 
send  whenever,  or  wherever  you  please.  It  will  give 
her  pleasure,  I  am  sure,  to  become  known  to  you. 

"  Accept  my  best  thanks  for  your  obliging  en- 
quiries concerning  my  health,  which  is,  I  flatter  my- 
self, considerably  amended,  and,  I  doubt  not^  will 
soon  be  perfectly  restored. 

"  Mrs.  Denbigh  joins  with  me  in  hoping  your  in- 
tended excursion  will  prove  agreeable,  and  desires 
her  best  compliments. 

"  I  remain,  dear  Sir,  with  great  regard,  your  obli- 
ged and  grateful  humble  servant. 

"  Clarentine  Delmington." 

"This  letter  is  what  you  may  call  short  and 

not  sweet!"  cried  Mrs.  Denbigh,  when  she  had  read 
it;  ''  he  will  think,  I  fear,  it  accords  very  ill  with  the 
kindness  and  cordiality  of  his  own." 

"  I  hope  and  believe,"  said  Clarentine,  affecting  to 
speak  wjth  indifference,  "he  will  think  very  little  a- 
bout  it." 

'-  There  are  cases,"  said  Mrs.  Denbigh,  "  when 
young  ladies  may  be  permitted  to  tell  lies  with  impu- 
nity, and  this  is  one ;  or  else,  Clarentine,  you  may 
depend  upon  it  I  should  not  suffer  that  false,  I  hope^ 
to  pass  uncensured." 

"  Ah,  my  dear  madam,"  said  Clarentine,  half 
smiling,  "  there  would  be  no  end  of  censuring  me  up- 
on that  score,  for,  of  late,  mv  whole  life  has  been  a 

her 

•*  Some  part  or  other  of  every  body's  life  must  be 
such,"  said  Mrs.  Denbigh  ;  "  mine  was  a  lie,  when 


129 

at  sixteen  an  old  grandmother  I  had  carried  me  down 
into  Northumberland,  and  obliged  me  to  tell  her  I 
liked  it!  My  poor  husband's  was  a  lie,  when  he  first 
married  me,  and  thought  it  needful  to  say  he  loved 
me  !" 

Here  Clarentine,  who  sat  directing  Somerset's  let- 
ter at  the  table,  discontinued  her  employment,  and 
looking  up  with  an  air  of  innocent  surprise,  said — 
"  And  did  he  not  love  you,  then  ?" 

*'  No,  not  all,  the  first  six  months." 

"  Good  Heaven,  how  terrible !  How  could  you 
marry -him  ?" 

"  In  the  first  place,  he  told  his  lie  so  well,  I  did 
not  know  he  had  this  dislike  to  me  ;  and  in  the  next, 
my  father  chose  him  for  me,  and  left  me  no  negative 
voice." 

"  Well,  but,"  said  Clarentine,  eager  to  hear  the 
result  of  this  frightful  beginning,  "  did  he  love  you 
better  afterwards.  Madam  ?  Were  you  happy  ?" 

"  Yes,  very.  I  never  suspected  his  affection  had 
been  dissembled  till  he  told  me  so  himself,  and  by 
that  time  it  was  become  real,  though  by  no  means,  I 
must  acknowledge,  romantic T"* 

"  And  yet,"  said  Clarentine,  *<  without  a  little  ro- 
mance in  youth  what  is  life  good  for?" 

"  Every  rational  enjoyment  that  sober  common 
sense  ought  to  render  valuable  to  us." 

"  But,  my  dearest  Mrs.  Denbigh,  do  you  expect 
me  to  have  already  acquired  a  sufficient  portion  of 
this  sober  common  sense  to  think  so  ?" 

"  No,  I  know  you  have  not ;  bat  a  little  longer  re- 
sidence with  me,  I  flatter  myself,  will  give  it  to  you. 
There  are  certain  words  with  which  sentimentalists 
by  profession  nourish  their  folly,  that  I  have  totally 
effaced  from  my  vocabulary,  and  never  permit  even 
my  friends  to  use  if  I  can  help  it.  Delicacy  (such 
false  delicacy  as  they  mean)  is  one ;  refinement  is 
another ;  sensibility  is    a   third ;  susceptibility   (the 


130 

most  odious  of  all)  is  a  fourth ;  enthusiasm  is  a  fifth ; 
and  lastlycomes  that  ideal  bugbear  constancy,  a 
term  of  which  no  woman  ought  to  know  the  mean- 
ing till  after  she  is  either  married,  or  positively  en- 
gaged." 

Before  Clarentine  had  time  to  answer  this  speech, 
the  door  opened,  and  Mr.  Manners  was  announced. 

Clarentine  introduced  him  to  Mrs.  Denbigh,  who, 
though  she  well  knew  the  ladies  of  his  family,  had 
never  before  seen  him,  and  then  they  all  took  their 
seats. 

After  some  general  conversation,  casting  his  eyes 
towards  the  letter  which  still  lay  upon  the  table — 
"  May  I  flatter  myself,"  said  he,  "  that  Miss  Del- 
mi  ngton  has  been  so  good  as  to  remember  the  tacit 
promise  she  gave  me  last  night?  Are  the  credentials 
I  am  to  carry  to  my  friend  ready?" 

Clarentine,  thanking  him  for  condescending  to  be- 
come her  courier,  put  the  letter  into  his  hands. 

"  Ah,  Madam,"  cried  he,  *'  call  not  that  a  conde- 
scension which  is  only  a  proof  of  my  self-interested- 
ness.  Captain  Somerset  and  I  have  been  separated 
so  long,  that  to  secure  myself  as  cordial  a  reception 
as  in  former  times  I  was  always  assured  of  obtaining, 
I  thought  it  necessary  to  apply  for  the  most  precious 
introductory  presentation  I  could  procure." 

"  If  that  was  your  view,"  said  Clarentine,  "  it 
would  have  been  more  politic  to  have  addressed 
yourself  elsewhere :  you  had  better,  I  believe,  give 
me  my  letter  again,  for  I  much  doubt  its  having  the 
efficacious  power  you  expect." 

"  No,  no.  Sir,"  cried  Mrs.  Denbigh,  "  keep  it 
now  you  have  it :  a  long  absent  friend  requires  not 
such  potent  recommendation  as  one  whom  we  have 
seen  more  lately,  and  therefore  content  yourself  this 
time  with  being  the  bearer  of  a  mere  letter  of  civility, 
and  reserve  for  your  next  meeting  the  letter  of  ten- 
derness." 


131 

"  I  am  sorry  you  give  me  reason  to  suppose," 
cried  he,  *'  both  will  not  come  from  the  same  hand." 

"Nay,  that  is  ungrateful!"  said  Mrs.  Denbigh, 
"  when  instead  of  one  we  are  proving  to  you  that 
you  have  txvo  strings  to  your  bow,  ought  you  to  ex- 
press such  a  regret  V 

"  My  regret.  Madam,"  answered  he,  "  may  find 
some  apology  in  its  disinterestedness — it  is  wholly 
for  my  friend." 

"  Are  you  not  afraid,  Mr.  Manners,"  said  Claren- 
tine  smiling,  "  that  your  partial  gallantry  will  incur 
the  same  reproach  Mr.  Westbury's  received  from 
you  last  night  ?  You  know  nothing  of  the  lady  at 
whose  expense  you  have  now  been  pleased  to  com- 
pliment me,  and  can  by  no  means  be  certain  your  re- 
gret is  at  all  justifiable." 

"  I  have  two  infallible  guides  upon  this  subject," 
cried  he  ;  "  my  ears  upon  one  occasion,  and  my  eyes 
whenever  I  have  the  honour  of  seeing  you." 

"  Your  ears  ?" 

'*  Yes ;  did  they  not  last  night  inform  me,  that 
JMiss  Delmington,  whose  countenance  alone  bears 
testimony  to  her  natural  candour,  thought  the  lady 
in  question  too  insignificant  an  object  to  merit  any 
place  in  her  remembrance  ?  Such  a  discovery  may 
surely  well  justify  my  regret !" 

"  1  was  not  aware,"  said  Clarentine,  deeply  blush- 
ing, "  of  the  severe  inference  you  would  draw  from 
so  momentary  a  fit  of  absence  !" 

Mr.  Manners  was  beginning  some  very  eager 
teply,  when  the  entrance  of  his  sister,  and  pre- 
sently after  of  Mr.  Westbury,  put  an  end  to  the  sub-^ 

JLCt. 

As  the  morning,  though  cold,  was  clear  and  fine. 
Miss  Manners,  at  the  end  of  a  short  visit,  proposed 
to  Clarentine  taking  a  walk  with  her  to  the  Upper 
Crescent  ;   to   tiiis   she  very  readily  consented,   and 


132 

escorted  by  the  two  gentlemen,  they  immediately  set 

Mr.  Manners  kept  by  her  side  daring  the  whole 
way,  alternately  amusing  her  by  the  aptness  and 
vivacity  of  his  general  remarks,  and  embarrassing 
ner  by  the  archness  of  his  distant  allusions  to  the 
subjects  she  had  before  so  gladly  flown  from  :  the 
pertect  good  breeding,  however,  with  which  he  thus 
mgeniously  tormented  her,  and  yet  more,  the  indul- 
gence  which  his  acknowledged  intimacy  with  Somer- 
set unconsciously  disposed  her  to  shew  him,  prevent- 
ed the  possibility  of  her  being  seriously  displeased, 
and  kept  her  in  good  humour  with  him' till  the  mo- 
ment they  parted. 

In  their  way  home,  Miss  Manners  addressing 
Clarentine  in  a  low  voice,  whilst  Mr.  Westbury's 
head  was  turned  aside,  said,  "  I  must  call  this  morn- 
ing at  Mrs.  Westbury's— my  mother  desired  it ;  but 
do  pray  go  with  me." 

"  If  you  wish  it,"  answered  Clarentine  in  the  same 
tone,  "  I  will  certainly  ;  but  what  makes  you  ask  it  so 
earnestly  ?" 

"  O  dear,  there  is  nothing  so  formidable  to  me  as 
a  forenoon  visit  there  :  she  is  always  surrounded  by 
snarling  politicians,  and  solemn  authors,  and  musty 
dictionaries,  and  huge  folios,  and  up  to  her  very 
chin  m  learning  and  philosophy ;  and  I  know  nothing 
m  the  world  of  all  this." 

'<■  But  do  you  expect  me,"  said  Clarentine,  laugh- 
ing, "to  be  any  wiser?" 

"  O  no,  youVe  a  good  unaffected  creature,  I  know  ; 
but  if  you  go  with  me,  I  shall,  at  least,  have  some- 
body to  talk  to,  whom  I  can  understand  and  be  un- 
derstood by." 

"  If  that  is  your  reason,"  said  Clarentine,  "  I  am 
wholly  at  your  command." 

They  were  now  arrived  at  Mrs.  Westbury's  door, 


133 

and  still  attended  by  Mr.  Manners  (young  Westbury 
made  his  bow  as  soon  as  he  found  where  they  were 
going),  gave  in  their  names,  and  were  shewn  up  to 
that  lady's  dressing  room. 

Clarentine,  as  she  entered,  beheld  xht  female  critic 
sitting  before  a  large  table,  covered  with  books,  pam- 
phlets, papers,  pens  and  ink.  Stretched  out  at  his 
ease,  in  an  arm-chair  near  the  fire,  sat  a  portly  and 
learned  professor  of  mathematics,  who,  by  the  start 
he  gave  as  they  walked  in,  evidently  betrayed  either 
how  deeply  the  sublimity  of  his  contemplations,  or 
the  soundness  of  his  stolen  nap^  had  previously  ab- 
sorbed every  faculty.  Intently  poring  over  some 
profoundly  scientific  Greek  manuscript^  which,  in 
honour  of  his  own  learning,  he  had  brought  with  him 
in  his  pocket,  at  one  end  of  the  table,  opposite  Mrs. 
Westbury,  sat  a  little  withered,  smirking  man,  in  a 
rusty  black  coat,  who,  at  the  same  time  that  he  as- 
pired to  the  reputation  of  a  savant^  likewise  aimed  at 
that  of  a  man  of  gallantry,  and  was  the  ladies  most 
obsequious  and  devoted  slave.  Lastly,  balancing 
himself  as  he  stood  near  the  window,  was  a  short, 
thick,  clumsy-looking  man,  with  enormous  black 
eye-brows,  frowning  over  a  newspaper,  and  mutter- 
ing execrations  to  himself  every  word  he  read.^ 

"  And  which,"  said  Clarentine,  addressing  Miss 
Manners  in  a  low  voice,  after  they  had  I)een  some 
time  seated,  "  which  of  these  three  dignifies  himself 
with  the  title  of  philosopher  .^" 

"  Why,  I  believe,  they  every  one  pretend  to  it  in 
some  degree;  but  xh^  i^hWoso^hcr par  excellence  is 
that  gentleman," — looking  towards  him  who  frown- 
ed at  the  window. 

"  I  should  sooner'"  said  Clarentine,  "  have  taken 
him,  by  his  employment,  for  ^politician,'''' 

"  O,  he's  both  :  .politics  and  philosophy  always  go 
together  now." 

Vol.  II.  M 


134 

"  His  countenance,  at  least,  does  not  denote  him 
to  be  of  the  sect  of  laughing-  philosophers,'''' 

"  Bless  me,  no  ;  he  never  laughs  but  in  scorn,'''' 

Here  their  attention  was  attracted  by  the  litde  man 
in  black,  who  looking  up  with  a  set  smile,  and  wav- 
ing his  hand  as  he  spoke,  said 

"  Madam,  I  must  beg  leave  to  assure  you,  that  in 
this  short  disquisition  there  is  more  exquisite  elo- 
quence, more  wonderful  profundity,  more  accurate 
criticism,  than  in  any  performance  of  the  kind  I  have 
met  with  for  many  years." 

"Whose  writings  does  it  criticise,  Mr.  Lea  V  en- 
quired Mrs.  Westbury. 

Mr.  Lea,  with  extreme  emphasis,  uttered  some 
hard  Greek  name,  and  was  then  proceeding  thus — 
"  It  can  be  no  new  information  to  a  lady  of  your  uni- 
versal erudition,  that  this  incomparable  author" 

when  the  philosophical  politician  abruptly  interrupt- 
ing him  called  out 

"  These  d — mn — d  news-writers  !  How  they  do 
make  my  blood  boil  !  Here's  a  fellow  now,"  striking 
the  back  of  his  fingers  against  the  paper,  "  who  for 
half  a  crown  a  day  will  say  and  unsay  the  same  con- 
founded lie  six  times  in  one  week ! — By  all  that's 
good.  Madam,"  turning  to  Mrs.  Westbury,  "it  as- 
tonishes me  to  think  you  can  take  in  such  a  flagitious 
compilation  of  falsehood  and  infamy." 

<'  Is  this  a  specimen  of  that  gentleman's  philoso- 
phy?'''' asked  Clarentine  in  a  low  voice,  turning  to 
Miss  Manners. 

''  Hush,  hush  ! — Hear  the  lady's  answer." 

"  My  dear  Sir,"  cried  Mrs.  Westbury,  "  you  are 
partial,  you  are  prejudiced  :  that's  one  of  the  best 
papers  that  comes  out." 

"  Ay,  Ay  !"  said  the  learned  Doctor,  "  let  me  see 
it  then  ;  I  want  to  change  mine,  and  I  don't  know 
what  other  to  order," 


135 

«  Take  my  word  for  it,  Doctor,"  said  Mrs.  West- 
bury,  '<-  you  can't  choose  a  better  than  that.  But  now, 
Mr.  Lea,  let  me  hear  a  little  more  about  your  Greek 
manuscript :  what  author  did  you  say." 

"  Madam,"  interrupted  Mr.  Lea,  the  same  invari- 
able smile  still  adorning  his  countenance,  "  with 
your  permission,  before  these  young  ladies,"  looking 
particularly  at  Clarentine,  "  we  will  have  recourse  to 
some  more  compatible  subject.  Doubtless  to  the 
minds  of  uninitiated  youth  these  remote  and  inap- 
plicable themes  must  be  too  intricate  and  unperspr- 
cuous  to  afford  them  aiiy  portion  of  mental  recrea- 
tion :  and.  Madam,  I  make  it  a  point,  as  pertinently 
as  I  can,  to  administer  to  all  such  conversation  as  i 
surmise  best  accords  with  the  age,  sex,  and  capacity^ 
of  my  auditors." 

"  O,  mercy,"  said  Miss  Manners,  in  a  whisper  to 
Clarentine,  "  there  will  be  no  enduring  that  man  if 
he  once  takes  it  into  his  head  to  address  his  pedantic 
jargon  to  us  ?  Do  pray,  let's  be  off." 

Clarentine,  as  little  disposed  to  prolong  the  visit 
as  her  friend,  instantly  arose  to  go  ;  and  Mr.  Man- 
ners starting  up  at  the  same  moment,  they  all  three 
took  their  leave  and  hastened  away. 

When  they  were  in  the  street,  ^'  Good  Heaven," 
exclaimed  Clarentine,  "  how  different  a  woman  Mrs. 
Westbury  always  appeared  to  me  before  !  I  never 
saw  her  so  surrounded  till  this  morning." 

"  O,  she  has  a  few  lucid  intervals,"  cried  Miss 
Manners,  "and  before  Mrs.  Denbigh,  particularly, 
I've  known  her  very  rational :  however,  we  did  not 
stay  half  long  enough  to  behold  her  in  her  real  per- 
fection ;  I  dare  say  she  and  the  politician  will  have 
a  furious  quarrel  before  they  part !" 

"  But  now,"  said  Clarentine,  "  will  you  have  the 
goodness  to  explain  to  me  your  reasons  for  dubbing 
him  a  philosopher  .^" 


136 

"Why,  in  the  first  place,  he   publicly  professes 
Atheism,  and  in  the  next — " 

^  "  O,  that's  enough  !"  interrupted  Clarentine  ;  "  I 
desire  to  hear  no  more  either  of  him  or  his  princi- 
ples." 

"Well,  then,  let's  change  the  subject;  what  do 
you  do  with  yourself  this  evening?" 

"  I  shall  stay  at  home  to  rest  after  the  raking  of 
last  night." 

"  O,  that's  a  horrid  plan  !  You  had  better  go  to 
the  play  with  us." 

"  3Iuch  better,"  said  Mr- .  Manners. 

"  No,  indeed,"  cried  Clarentine,  "  if  I  had  »o 
,other  objection,  I  could  not.  bear  to  leave  Mrs.  Den- 
bigh two  evenings  alone." 

"  O,  Mrs.  Denbigh  shall  be  of  the  party !"  cried 
Miss  Manners — "  I'll  run  up  and  ask  her  directly." 

And  then,  without  giving  Clarentine  time  to  stop 
her,  being  just  arrived  at  the  door  and  finding  it  open, 
she  rushed  into  the  house  and  up  stairs  in  a  moment, 
M**.  Manners  and  Clarentine  both  following  her. 

Before  they  reached  the  dining-room,  Mrs.  Den- 
bigh, unwilling  to  neglect  any  opportunity  of  dissi- 
pating her  young  friend's  thoughts,  had  already  given 
the  consent  that  was  required  of  her  ;  and  soon  after, 
rejoicing  in  their  success,  the  brother  and  sister 
went  home  to  dress  for  dinner. 

»'  Why,  my  dearest  Madam,"  cried  Clarentine, 
when  thev  were  gone,  "  what  a  life  you  are  determi- 
ned I  shall  lead  !" 

"  Any  thing,  my  good  child,  rather  than  suffer  you, 
in  your  present  disposition  of  mind,  to  stay  at  home 
and  think,'''* 

"  Do  you,  then,  imagine  it  is  impossible  to  think 
in  a  play-house  ?" 

"  Oh,  perverse  people  will  do  what  they  ought  not 
to  do,  every  where,  but  I  am  persuaded  less  effec- 
tually in  a  play-house  than  shut  up  in  their  own  apart- 


137 


ment.     Go  up  and  dress  therefore,  and  let  me  hear 
no  more  delicate  objections.'''' 

Clarentine  half  provoked,  yet  unable  to  refrain 
laughing,  was  forced  to  obey,  and  at  night  when  she 
returned,  almost  against  her  own  will,  was  compelled 
to  acknowledge  she  had  really  been  entertained. 


CHAPTER  XX. 

NEAR  a  week  now  passed  on  much  in  the  same 
dissipated  manner  ;  at  the  end  of  which,  Clarentine, 
wholly  unused  to  such  a  way  of  life,  was  laid  up  with 
a  severe  cold,  and  obliged,  for  several  days,  to  con- 
fine herself  entirely  to  her  own  room. 

During  this  penitential  retreat,  she  received  a  se- 
cond letter  from  Sophia. 

MISS  DELMINGTON. 

Delmlngton-House,  January. 
"  I  do  not  know  what  you  may  be  in  ijour  part  of 
the  world,  but  here  we  have  been  exceedingly  gay. 
Lord  Welwyn  gave  a  very  elegant  ball  two  nights 
ago,  at  which  we  were  all  present,  and  I  had  the  ho- 
nour of  dancing,  if  not  the  whole  evening,  at  least 
the  greatest  part  of  it,  with  your  friend  Mr.  Eltham. 
Since  he  has  made  me  (or  rather  since  I  made  my- 
self) his  confidant,  it  is  astonishing  what  progress  I 
seem  to  have  made  in  his  good  graces :  he  never  has 
a  sorrow  or  a  joy  that  he  does  not  come  to  impart  to 
me  ;  and  as  both  very  often  arise  from  causes  equally 
frivolous,  he  has  now  got  so  used  to  being  laughed 
at,  that  he  not  only  bears  it  with  stoical  patience,  but 
sometimes  even  catches  the  infection.  The  grim  as- 
pect he  brought  down  with  him  is  considerably  im- 
proved within  this  last  fortnight,  and  1  have  great  rea- 
M2 


138 

►  w""  ?^?fu'-  '^/'  ^  '^"^^  "^^^  ^"  ^  «h<^^^  ti«^e  restore 
to  al  his  former  gay  and  youthful  gallantry. 
"My  dearest  mother,  who  knows  nothing  of  his 
motives  for  thus  distinguishing  and  attending  me, 
and  I  dare  say,  concludes  very  often  he  is  insidi- 
ously laying  siege  to  her  daughter's  heart,  when,  in 
tact,  he  is  only  bewailing  the  cruelty  of  her  niece, 
looks  extremely  grave  upon  these  occasions,  and  yes- 
terday, without  assigning  any  reason  for  it,  had'the 
inhumanity  to  forbid  my  ever  going  alone  to  Wel- 
wyn  Park  while  he  stays  there  !  Dear  Madam,  you 
need  be  under  no  alarm  !~he  thinks  of  me  only  as  of 
a  good-humoured  rattle,  whose  conversation  serves 
a  little  to  beguile  the  horrors  of  disappointment,  and 
lighten  the  burden  of  his  heavy  woes  '  He  must  be 
certain  /  have  no  design,  and  I  believe  we  may  all 
be  equally  certain  he  has  none. 

"My  brother  Edgar  is  now  at  home,  and  pays  very 
assiduous  court  to  his  pretty  mistress,  who,  by  the 
way,  really  grows  prettier  and  prettier  every  hour  •— - 
aye,  Clarentine,  and  so  do  I  too,  if  I  am  to  believe 
honest  friend  Eltham  !--He  was  yesterday  (and  yet 
I  had  been  up  dancing  half  the  night  before)  com- 
phmenting  me  upon  this  subject,  in  a  style  of  court- 
liness It  would,  I  am  persuaded,  have  done  your  heart 
good  to  hear,  when,  finding  he  dwelt  longest  upon  the 
lustre  of  my  charming  eyes,  I  hastily  interrupted  him 
to  ask,  whether  they  were  like  Lucy  Barclay's,  of 
dauntless  memory ! 

"  Heaven  forbid  !"  exclaimed  he  laughing— 

*'  In  what  do  they  differ?"  enquired  I 

"  In  every  thing— in  form,  in  expression,  and  eyen 
m  colour." 

"  Are  they  like  Clarentine's  ?" 
"  He  hesitated— but  at  last  said—,"  I  have  reason 
to  think  them  preferable." 
"  And  why  so  ?" 
«  Because,'"  answered  he,  smiling,  "  their  beams-, 


139 

though  arch  and  sportive,  are  likewise  merciful  andU 
friendly — and  upon  me  were  never  played,  but  with 
a  sort  of  temperated  fire,  which  animates  without 
appalling." 

"  There,  Clarentine — what  do  you  think  of  my 
animating  powers  I  By  this  account,  however,  of  the 
appalling  influence  of  yours,  I  fear,  my  good  girl, 
you  dealt  very  hardly  with  his  poor  man.  He  is 
horrid  sore  yet,  and  your  name,  unexpectedly  utter- 
ed, will  often  make  him  literally  start!  I  take  pretty 
good  care,  though,  he  should  never  do  so  on  hearing 
it  from  me  ;  for  when  we  are  together,  I  am  perpe- 
tually repeating  it,  on  purpose,  as  you  do  with  young 
skittish  horses,  to  use  him  to  the  object  he  shies  at. 
Edgar  used  to  be  quite  as  nervous  upon  this  subject ; 
but  I  think  that  all  powerful  medicine,  absence,  has 
now  nearly  cured  him.  In  nervous  cases  brought  on 
by  appalling  eyes^  absence,  I  believe,  is  your  only 
valerian  ! 

"  My  mother  has  just  had  a  charming  letter — ele- 
gant, respectful,  yet  friendly,  from  Mr.  Somerset.  He 
is  now,  as  you  know,  I  suppose,  in  Northamptonshire, 
and  purposes  coming  here  for  a  few  days  before  he 
returns  to  town.  I  am  enchanted  at  the  idea  of  see- 
ing him,  and  my  mother,  likewise,  is  so  much  pleased, 
that  she  has  written  to  him  by  return  of  post  to  ex- 
press the  great  satisfaction  such  a  prospect  gi\nes  her.' 

"  I  could  not  help  thinking,  whilst  I  was  reading 
his  letter,  what  an  incomparable  trio  we  should  have, 
if  this  unhappy  man  (as  I  cannot  but  suspect)  is  also 
one  of  your  cast-offs! — yet — Somerset  unsuccessful! 
how  should  that  be? — Eltham  would  not  be  so  icy 
about  him  if  he  was  really  a  brother-willow !  I  can- 
not make  it  out;  yet  something  there  is  to  make  out, 
I  am  certain.  I  wonder  whether  it  will  be  possible 
to  wreathe  myself  into  his  confidence  as  I  did  into 
Eltham's :  I  am  afraid  not.  Wiseacres  like  you  and 
Somerset  are  never  so  easy  to  expound,  as  crazy- 
trained  people  like  Eltham  and  I. 


140 

*  *<  Your  poor  Madame  d'Arzele  is  upon  the  eve  of 
experiencing  a  severe  loss  :  her  brother,  our  excellent 
Chevalier,  is  going  abroad  very  shortly  to  join  some 
troops  in  the  West-Indies,  I  believe,  or  in  Germany, 
or  Holland,  or  somewhere  in  short.  We  are  all 
greatly  concerned  at  his  departure,  and  as  for  her, 
poor  little  soul;  she  looks  quite  unhappy.  Write  to 
her  again  soon,  my  best  Clarentine ;  and  since  she 
cannot  be  revived  by  your  cheering  presence,  soothe 
and  comfort  her  by  your  distant  kindness.  There  is 
nobody,  I  believe,  upon  earth,  she  loves  with  more 
tenderness  than  you therefore  one  word  of  con- 
solation from  your  pen  will  weigh  more  than  thou- 
sands from  our  lips. 

"  Galloping  up  the  avenue,  here  comes  Mr.  El- 
tham :  farewel  therefore  ;  I  am  going  to  hold  his  stir- 
rup while  he  alights! 

"Yours  ever, 

"S.  D/» 

Clarentine  read  this  gay  letter  to  Mrs.  Denbigh, 
who  was  sitting  with  her  at  the  time  she  received 
it,  and,  who,  when  she  had  concluded,  said  with 
a  smile 

"  Designs^  I  believe  indeed,  your  giddy  friend  has 
none;  but  xvithout  design,  if  she  don't  take  care,  it 
appears  very  probable  her  little  heart  w^ill  be  drawn 
in:  she  will  flutter  about  the  flame  till  she  singes  her 

wings 1    only  wish   he   may  singe   his   rvhiskers^ 

and  then  all  will  go  well,  and  they  may  make  a  very 
happy  couple.     Is  she  pretty?" 

"  Yes,"  answered  Clarentine,  "  she  has  a  sort  of 
Hebeface^  full  of  dimples  and  good-humour,  that  is, 
extremely  bewitching ;  and  the  dazzling  brightness 
of  her  complexion  surpasses  any  thing  1  ever  be- 
held." 

"  O  then,"  said  Mrs.   Denbigh "  with  such  a 

character  and  such  a  form,  she  will  attach  him  I  have 
no  doubt  J  at  present  he  is  not  upon  his  guard  against 


141 

her;  he  looks  upon  her,  as  she  says,  merely  as  a  com- 
ic, laughing  girl,  with  whom  to  chat  and  rally  is  as 
safe  as  it  is  pleasant.  In  a  little  while,  however,  if 
she  is  really  thus  attractive,  shut  up  as  they  both  are 
in  so  secluded  a  part  of  the  world,  he  will  find  him- 
self restless  and  ennuiez  without  her,  and  to  obviate 
all  future  dismiiisiQiis^  will,  at  once,  honestly  declare 
himself,  and  make  proposals  to  her  family." ^^ 

"  Your  prediction,  my  dear  Madam,"  said  Clar- 
entine,  "  exactly  reminds  me  of  what  Mr.  Eltham 
once  said  of  her  himself:  he  was  describing  her,  as 
you  have  done,  as  a  gay,  animated  girl,  who  without 
beauty  enough  to  sascinate  at  first  sight,  would  begin 
by  .amusing,  and  end  by  attaching:  if  such  should  be 
the  case,  however,  do  you  think  my  poor  Sophia 
would  be  permanently  happy  with  him?" 

"Why  not?  We  never  heard  that  Mr.  Eltham, 
though  wild  and  thoughtless,  was  decidedly  profligate, 
or  deliberately  wicked.  His  temper,  you  once  said. 
Lord  Welwyn  had  told  you  was  admirable,  no  con- 
tradiction of  which  were  the  empassioned  and  lover- 
like rages  he  fell  into  on  being  so  abruptly  discarded: 
any  man  of  strong  feelings  upon  such  an  occasion 
might  be  pardoned  for  betraying  some  degree  of  re- 
sentment :  and  really,  my  censures  upon  him  have  al- 
ways been  so  mixed  with  pity,  that  I  am  rejoiced  to 
think  he  has,  at  last,  met  with  an  honest,  unsenti- 
mental girl,  who  will  permit  him  to  lay  his  willows 
at  her  feet." 

"  You  seem  to  be  of  opinion,  Madam,"  said  Cla- 
rentine,  "  he  was  ill  used  !"  "Not  exactly  that ;  but 
he  was  certainly  harshly  used,  and  at  the  time  he 
received  his  congt  had  really  done  nothing  to  de- 
serve it." 

Clarentine,  a  little  shocked  at  the  incontrovertible 
truth  of  this  observation,  remained  silent ;  and  Mrs. 
Denbigh,  reading  her  thoughts,  hastened  to  change 
the  subject. 


142 

At  the  end  of  a  few  days,  Clarentine  was  sufficient- 
ly recovered  to  be  able,  though  she  still  confined  her- 
self in  an  evening,  to  walk  out  about  an  hour  every 
morning.  It  was  on  her  return  from  one  of  these 
early  rambles,  that,  ascending  the  steps  of  Mrs.  Den- 
bigh's house,  she  beheld  Mr.  Manners,  who,  after  a 
fortnight's  absence,  was  hastening,  he  said,  to  pay  his 
respects  to  her. 

Clarentine,  in  whom  his  presence  always  awaken- 
ed an  emotion  of  mingled  pleasure  and  confusion, 
which  was  now  increased  by  the  recollection  of  his 
having  so  lately  parted  from  Somerset,  blushed  deep- 
ly the  instant  he  addressed  her  ;  and  during  some 
minutes,  had  scarcely  presence  of  mind  sufficient  to 
answer  his  general  enquiries  with  any  tolerable  de- 
gree of  steadiness  or  composure.  This,  however, 
he  affected  not  to  observe  ;  but  when  they  reached 
Mrs.  Denbigh's  usual  sitting-room,  and  the  first 
compliments  between  him  and  that  lady  were  over, 
taking  out  his  pocket-book  and  presenting  Clarentine 
a  letter,  he  said  "  From  Captain  Somerset,  Madam, 
who  at  the  same  time  that  I  delivered  it,  desired  me 
to  give  his  best  respects." 

Clarentine,  now  blushing  a  yet  deeper  die,  re- 
ceived it  with  down-cast  eyes,  and  in  a  voice  scarce- 
ly audible,  stammered  out  something  like  an  ac- 
knowledgment for  his  goodness  in  taking  charge  of 
it. 

"  I  hope.  Sir,"  said  Mrs.  Denbigh,  "you left  your 
friend  perfectly  well  ?" 

"  Yes,  Madam,  in  healthy  I.  hope  he  was,  but  in 
spirits  he  appeared  ill  indeed." 

Clarentine  fearfully  looked  up  ;  and  Mrs.  Denbigh 
in  a  tone  that  was  somewhat  sarcastic,  said,  "  And 
what  can  have  affected  his  spirits  so  prodigiously  V 

"  Hopelessness  and  absence,"  answered  Mr.  Man- 
ners, stealing  a  side-long  glance  at  the  astonished 
Clarentine. 


143 

"  Very  extraordinary  complaints  for  a  man  to  suf- 
fer by,  who  has  his  cure  in  his  own  power  ?"  cried 
Mrs.  Denbigh,  with  yet  increasing  irony — "  Pray, 
why  does  he  prolong  his  absence  if  it  causes  him 
such  exquisite  misery  ?" 

"  Because  he  has  no  encouragement  to  shorten 
it." 

Mrs.  Denbigh  was  silent  a  moment,  and  then, 
shaking  her  head,  and  looking  very  humble,  she 
said,  "  You  are  too  problematical  for  me,  Mr.  Man- 
ners :  I  must  give  up  all  hope  of  understanding 
you." 

"And  do  I  appear  to  you,  Miss  Delmington,  equal- 
ly unintelligible  f" 

"  Equally,    Sir," answered    she,    in    a   low 

voice. 

''  You  have  more  anxiet}",  however,  to  elucidate 
the  mystery:" 

"  No,  not  at  all." 

"  Then,  certainly,"  resumed  Mr.  Manners,  "  I 
will  not  presume  to  force  an  explanation  upon  you  ; 
we  will  therefore  start  another  subject ;  pray  who 
did  you  dance  with  at  the  last  assembly  ?" 

Clarentine,  though  extremely  provoked  with  him, 
compelled  herself  to  answer  this,  and  several  other 
questions  of  the  same  nature,  with  an  appearance  of 
perfect  unconcern  ;  and  very  soon  after  saying  he 
hoped  he  should  have  the  honour  of  meeting  her  at 
the  rooms  in  the  evening,  he  arose  and   took   leave. 

Mrs.  Denbigh  and  Clarentine  sat  looking  at  each 
other  some  minutes  after  he  was  gone,  in  utter  si- 
lence. At  last,  "Are  we  to  understand  by  all  this," 
cried  Clarentine,  "  that  Mrs.  Hertford  is  groxvn 
cruel  r^ 

"  I  imagine  so,"  answered  Mrs.  Denbigh,  laugh- 
ing, "  or  that  Somerset  himself  has  changed  his  love, 
and  embibed  a  passion  for  some  fair  tygress." 

Clarentine  shrugged  her  shoulders  with  a  look  of 


144 

incredulity,  but  forbearing  to  say  any  thing  further, 
broke  open  the  letter  Mr.  Manners  had  brought 
her. 

It  contained  not  more  than  six  lines,  and  was  writ- 
ten with  a  coldness  almost  equal  to  her  own.  He 
began  by  thanking  her  for  granting  his  request;  and 
then,  begging  she  would  send  the  promised  letter  to 
him  at  Lady  Delmington's  as  soon  as  she  had  leisure, 
concluded  with  a  few  faint  congratulations  upon  the 
emendation  of  her  health. 

Clarentine's  heart  was  too  full,  when  she  had  read 
this  chilling  scroll,  to  make  any  comments  upon  it ; 
therefore  putting  it  silently  into  Mrs.  Denbigh's  hand, 
she  retired  to  her  own  room  to  execute  the  commis- 
sion it  contained. 


CHAPTER  XXL 

THE  last  week  of  Mrs.  Denbigh's  stay  at  Bath 
was  now  nearly  elapsed,  and  she  and  her  young 
friend  were  already  making  preparations  for  their 
departure,  when,  just  as  they  had  risen  from  break- 
fast one  morning,  Miss  Manners  unexpectedly  made 
her  appearance. 

"  I  am  come,"  cried  she,  eagerly,  "to  beg,  to  en- 
treat, that  you  will  spend  the  evening  at  our  house 
to-morrow :  we  are  to  have  a  delightful  little  private 
dance,  only  fifteen  or  sixteen  couple,  and  as  I  have 
heard  you  say.  Miss  Delmington,  you  cannot  endure 
the  great  assemblies,  I  insist  upon  your  coming  to 
our  Lilliputian  one.^' 

"You  are  very  peremptory  !"  cried  Clarentine, 
smiling. 

"Why  the  dance  was  half  made  on  your  account." 


145 

"  Oil  my  account  ?" 

"  Yes  ;  mama  was  very  unwilling  to  agree  to  it, 
till  my  brother  and  I  determined  her,  by  represent- 
ing the  necessity  of  doing  something  civil  by  Mrs. 
Denbigh  and  you  before  your  departure." 

"  O  then,"  said  Mrs.  Denbigh,  "  I  am  to  take  a 
share  in  this  honour  V 

"  Certainly." 

"  But  who  do  you  intend  shall  open  the  ball  with 
me  ?  Will  your  brother,  do  you  think,  lead  me 
out  ?'» 

"  I  have  not  a  doubt  of  it,"  answered  Miss  Man- 
ners, laughing. 

"  Very  well  then  ;  go  home  and  desire  him  to  get 
his  white  gloves  ready,  and  tell  your  mother,  "that  if 
she  will  permit  us  to  make  our  curtsies  at  eleven 
o'clock,  we  will  do  ourselves  the  honour  of  w^aiting 
upon  her." 

"  At  eleven  o'clock  ?  Dear  me^  why  so  early  ?" 

"  Because  the  next  day  we  design  to  begin  our 
journey,  and  it  has  always  been  my  plan,  on  the  eve 
of  travelling,  to  endeavour  to  get  a  little  sleep." 

"  But  Miss  Delmington  need  not  run  away  so 
soon  ?" 

"If  she  is  wise,  I  think  she  will ;  all  that,  however, 
I  leave  to  her  own  determination." 

Miss  Manners  then  shaking  hands  with  Clarentine, 
and  thanking  Mrs.  Denbigh  for  her  ready  acquies- 
cence, hastened  away  full  of  bustle  and  business. 

The  next  day,  about  an  hour  before  she  set  out 
to  fulfil  her  engagement,  the  following  letter  was  de- 
livered to  Clarentine  from  Madame  d'Arzele. 

MISS  DELMINGTON. 

Mont  Repos,  January. 

"  In  what  terms  shall  I  thank  my  beloved  and 
amiable  Clarentine  for  the  invaluable  new  acquaint- 
ance she  has  procured  me  .''     Your  Mr.  Somerset  is 

Vol.  II.  N 


146 

all  that  is  excellent  in  man  ;  distinguished  in  his  ad- 
dress ;  elegant  in  his  conversation  ;  kind,  good,  and 
benevolent  in  his  nature  !  He  has  made  a  complete 
conquest  of  me,  and  the  noble  trait  I  have  to  relate 
will,  I  hope,  confirm  his  conquest  of  you. 

"  Our  Sophia,  I  find  by  the  affectionate  condo- 
lences contained  in  the  letter  your  friend  brought  me, 
has  informed  you  of  the  heavy  deprivation  I  am 
about  to  sustain :  my  poor  Chevalier  leaves  me  in  a 
few  days,  but  he  leaves  me  with  a  heart,  proud  as  it 
is,  so  overflowing  with  gratitude,  that  there  seems 
no  longer  to  be  in  it  any  room  for  sorrow. 

"  One  of  our  late  poets,  you  knoAT,  has  justly  and 
beautifully  said,  that 

"En  tout  pays  tons  les  bons  cceurs  sont  freres,"* 

You  will  not  be  surprised  therefore  to  hear,  that  your 
amiable  Somerset  and  our  ban  Chevalier  became 
friends  almost  frc-n  the  first  hour  they  met.  The 
loyaute  and  the  manly  simplicity  of  their  congenial 
minds,  attached  them  to  each  other  with  a  cordiality 
and  zeal  that  did  them  equal  honour,  and  afforded 
me  the  liveliest  pleasure  to  behold.  Day  after  day, 
by  mutual  appointment,  they  spent  whole  hours  in 
wandering  about  the  country  together,  talking  over 
the  wretched  situation  of  poor  unhappy  France — at- 
tristant  themselves,  one  minute  by  fearful  predic- 
tions, and  cheering  each  other  the  next  by  brighter 
conjectures.  At  length,  however,  Mr.  Somerset's 
time  was  expired,  and  he  called  to  take  leave  of  us  : 
it  was  this  very  morning,  and  my  brother  and  I  were 
both  talking  of  him  when  he  appeared. 

*'  My  excellent  friends,"  cried  he,  as  he  entered, 
"  I  am  grieved  to  say  that  I  am  now  come  to  bid  you 
farewel :  the  happiness  I  have  derived  from  your  so- 
ciety since  I  have  been  here,  scarcely  leaves  me  the 

*  Florian. 


147 

courage  to  quit  you  ;  and  yet,"  added  he,  a  gleam 
of  unusual  satisfaction  brightening  his  expressive 
face,  "  and  yet,  I  have  a  faint  hope  held  out  to  nrie, 
that  the  motive  for  which  I  go  may  be  attended  with 
the  most  exquisite  felicity  to  me  !  Ah,  Madame 
d'Arzele,"  continued  he,  taking  my  hand  and  half 
smiling,  "  what  would  I  not  give  to  make  you  the 
companion  of  my  journey — the  assistant  in  my  re- 
searches into  one  of  the  best,  but  least  penetrable 
hearts,  that  ever  inhabited  a  female  besom  !"      . 

"  We  both  laughed  at  his  acknowledged  perplex- 
ity upon  a  subject  we  could  not  but  allow  must  be 
so  interesting  to  him,  and  sincerely  wished  him  all 
the  success  he  could  desire.  Who  this  impenetrable 
female  was,  however,  we  ventured  not  to  enquire, 
nor  did  he  seem  disposed  to  inform  us  ;  for,  rising 
at  the  end  of  a  short  visit,  he  first  paid  his  compli- 
ments to  me  in  the  most  polite  and  friendly  terms, 
assuring  me  he  should  take  the  earliest  opportunity 
of  waiting  upon  me  whenever  he  renewed  his  visit 
in  my  neighbourhood  ;  and  then  turning  to  the  Che- 
valier, and  putting  a  small  packet  into  his  hand,  "  My 
friend,"  said  he,  "  you  will  find  two  letters  within 
that  cover,  which  I  must  beg  you  to  deliver  for  me 
when  you  reach  your  place  of  destination  :  they  are 
directed  :  but  you  will  have  the  goodness,  before  you 
go,  to  seal  them."  So  saying,  he  shook  hands  with 
him  in  the  most  cordial  manner  ;  wished  him  health 
and  prosperity  ;  embraced  the  children  ;  and  bowing 
again  to  me,  sprang  into  the  chaise  that  was  waiting 
for  him  at  the  door,  and  drove  away  with  a  velocity 
that  soon  carried  him  beyond  our  sight. 

"  We  returned  melancholy  and  silent,  into  the 
parlour ;  and  there  the  Chevalier,  glad  of  any  ihing 
to  do,  opened  the  packet,  and  taking  up  the  seal- 
ing-wax, prepared  to  obey  his  friend's  last  request. 
Judge,  however,  what  were  his  sensations,  when,  in 
addition  to  the  above  mentioned  letters,  which  were 


148 

directed  to  two  British  officers  in  the  West  Indies, 
he  beheld,  addressed  to  the  Chevalier  de  Valcour^  and 
enclosed  in  a  written  eiroeloppe^  a  Bank  bill  for  100/. 

"  The  papers  dropped  from  his  hands  in  astonish- 
ment unutterable,  and  in  answer  to  my  eager  inqui- 
ries, all  he  could  do  was  to  point  to  them  without 
having  power  to  speak. 

"  I  took  them  up.  You  may  imagine  what  were 
my  exclamations  and  feelings  upon  seeing  a  note  ; 
but  rwever  can  you  picture  to  yourself  the  strong  emo- 
tion with  which  I  read  these  words-— 

*'  Les  dons  de  I'amitle  I'ofFensent  jamais.* 

"  W.  S.» 

"  Generous,  feeling,  delicate  Somerset !  Oh,  my 
Clarentine,  that  I  dared  but  give  utterance  to  the 
wish  that  now  rises  to  my  heart !  There  is  bat  one 
other  such  mind  as  his  in  the  world — and  that  she 
who  possesses  it  may  become  sensible  of  his  worth, 
and  prove  the  sweet  reward  of  all  his  virtues — Yes, 
Clarentine,  that^  that  is  the  fervent  wish  of 

"  Your  own, 
"  Eugenie  d'Arzele." 

There  was  something  in  the  nature  of  this  letter 
so  deeply  affecting  to  a  heart,  which,  like  Clarentine's, 
was  alive  to  every  impression  that  a  tale  of  genero-- 
sitv,  or  an  action  of  beneficence  can  awaken,  that, 
melted  by  its  perusal  into  the  most  grateful  tears  she 
had  ever  shed,  there  was  nothing  upon  earth  she 
would  not  have  given  for  permission  to  indulge,  that 
evening,  in  uninterrupted  privacv,  the  sweet  though 
half  melancholy  reflections  that  filled  her  mind.  The 
prospect  of  going  out — of  dissipating  her  thoughts 
amidst  a  set  of  uninteresting  people,  from  the  subject 
that  now  so  fully  occupied  them,  was  horror  to  her. 

*  The  gifts  of  friendship  never  offend- 


149 

"  To  wish,  or  even  to  attempt  forgetting  Somer- 
set," cried  she,  "  I  am  persuaded  will  henceforth  be 
impossible  !  I  renounce  all  such  visionary  idea,  and 
from  this  moment  determine  to  cherish  his  remem- 
brance at  the  risk  of  every  thing — health,  happiness, 
and  peace.  Careless  whether  he  loves  me  in  return, 
my  love  shall  be  wholly  his :  I  wed  myself  to  his 
image — it  shall  be  my  darling  companion  through 
life — the  friend  to  whom,  in  fancy,  I  will  repair  for 
consolation,  pour  out  all  my  sorrows,  and  dedicate 
every  thought !" 

Desperate  now  therefore,  and  indifferent  what 
might  in  future  be  the  effect  upon  her  own  mind  of 
a  resolution  so  fantastic  and  so  wild,  she  concluded 
that  in  giving  way  to  her  imagination,  in  removing 
the  severe  curb  she  had  hitherto  put  upon  its  wan- 
derings, she  should  lighten  her  heart  of  half  it  had 
before  suffered,  and  restore  herself  to  ease  and  free- 
dom. Somerset,  she  had  not  a  doubt,  loved  another : 
to  that  other  he  was  now,  anxious  and  uncertain,  in 
all  probability  gone.  "  Why  let  him  go  !  and  let  him 
(she  almost  added)  be  successful !  My  silent  admi- 
ration can  neither  injure  his  more  fortunate  mistress, 
nor  disturb  him :  he  thinks  me  cold,  regardless,  and 
indifferent.  In  ignorance  therefore  and  in  safety  I 
may  still  nourish  my  attachment,  and  cheer  myself 
at  intervals,  amidst  the  gloom  that  will  surround  me, 
with  the  soothing  recollection  of  his  excellence  and 
worth  !" 

In  this  disposition  of  mind,  and  with  a  species  of 
forced  calmness,  which  painful  as  it  was  to  her  to  as- 
sume, yet  in  some  measure  bore  the  appearance  of 
serenity,  she  set  out  for  Mrs.  Manners's,  unsuspected 
even  by  her  penetrating  friend,  who  accustomed  to 
her  being  often  absent,  and  ignorant  of  her  having 
received  any  late  letters,  thought  not  of  her  present  si- 
lence with  any  wonder,  nor  animadverted  upon  it  with 
any  thing  but  her  usual  good-humoured  pleasantrv. 
N2 


150 

In  the  ball-room,  one  of  the  first  persons  who  ap- 
proached Clarentine,  after  she  had  paid  her  compli- 
ments to  the  ladies  of  the  house,  was  Mr.  Westbury. 
He  began  with  something  he  intended  should  pass 
as  an  apology  for  his  impertinence  on  the  night  of  the 
former  assembly ;  and  then  requesting  the  favour  of 
her  hand  for  the  two  first  dances,  on  her  bowing  her 
consent,  almost  mechanically,  he  sauntered  back  to 
his  seat. 

Very  soon  after,  Mr.  Manners,  who  at  the  moment 
she  entered  was  conversing  with  some  gentlemen  in 
a  distant  part  of  the  room,  advanced  towards  her 
with  the  same  petition.  At  first,  so  little  did  she 
know  what  she  did,  she  was  upon  the  point  of  accept- 
ing him  ;  but  suddenly  recollecting  herself,  she  has- 
tily said,  "  O  no,  I  can't ;  Mr.  Westbury  has  just 
asked  me." 

"  Poor  Westbury !"  exclaimed  Mr.  Manners  laugh- 
ing— "  He  has  no  reason  to  be  vain  of  the  readiness 
with  which  you  think  of  him  !" 

Then  lowering  his  voice,  and  looking  at  her  very 
archly,  '^  I  wonder,"  added  he,  "  what  you  are  think- 
ing of?  Hopf,  Faith,  or  Charity  ?" 

Clarentine,  certain  he  alluded  again  to  the  anchor, 
coloured  ;  but  affecting  to  laugh,  said — "  Of  Charity 
certainly ;  or  else  I  could  never  endure  you  so  pa- 
tiently." 

"  O  pray  then,"  cried  he,  "  always  retain  this  pre- 
cious virtue  when  in  my  company,  and  I  promise 
always  to  furnish  you  with  occasions  to  exercise  it. 
All  malice  apart,  however,  will  you  do  me  the  ho- 
nour to  go  down  the  two  second  dances  with  me  ?" 

Again  Clarentine  bowed  ;  and  Mr.  Manners  in- 
treating  her  not  to  forget  him,  went  up  to  speak  to  a 
fresh  party  that  was  just  entering. 

He  had  not  left  her  many  minutes,  when  a  new 
candidate  approached  her  in  the  person  of  the  sen- 
tentious Mr.  Lea,  who  bowing  to  her  with  infinite 


151 

ceremony,  begged  leave  to  propose  himself  to  her  as 
a  partner  during  the  commencement  of  their  festive 
revels  ! 

Clarentine,  unused  to  such  a  mode  of  pleading,  and 
surprised  at  the  idea  of  a  man's  dancing  at  all  who 
seemed  verging  towards  sixty,  drew  back  htr  hand 
with  a  look  of  grave  astonishnient,  and  not  certain 
she  had  perfectly  understood  him,  said,  <■<■  Sir?" 

"  Madam,"  resumed  he,  "  am  I  authorised  to  in- 
vestigate into  the  number  of  your  actual  engagements  ? 
Can  you  vouchsafe  me  the — " 

"  Sir,"  interrupted  Clarentine,  extremely  sickened 
of  him,  '■'•  I  am  already  engaged,  I  thank  you,  for 
the  four  first  dances,  and  after  they  are  over  I  shall 
go  home  immediately." 

"  I  hope  not,"  cried  Mr.  Lea,  "  I  hope  a  lady  whose 
physiognomy  indicates  such  dulcet  benignity,  cannot 
meditate  so  direct  a  deviation  from  humanity  ?" 

Clarentine,  not  in  spirits  to  be  amused  by  this'  con- 
ceit, repeated  her  first  declaration  with  increased 
coldness,  and  Mr.  Lea,  at  length,  walked  away. 

The  dancing  now  in  a  very  short  time  began,  and 
Clarentine,  who  in  the  languid  Mr.  Westbury  felt  by 
no  means  sorry  to  have  a  partner  who  would  suffer 
her  to  indulge  her  desire  of  being  silent  without  in- 
terruption, w  as  called  to  join  in  the  set  that  was  form- 
ing. Not  long,  however,  had  she  reason  to  congra- 
tulate herself  upon  her  good  fortune  ;  for  scarcely 
had  she  been  standing  up  five  minutes,  when  Mr. 
Manners  led  a  young  lady  whom  he  had  engaged 
since  her  refusal,  next  couple  to  where  she  was  pla- 
ced, and  seemed  determined  to  draw  her  into  con- 
versation. 

"  Pray,  Miss  Delmington,"  said  he,  half  laugh- 
ing, '*■  how  could  you  have  the  cruelty  to  listen  to 
the  eloquent  Mr.  Lea  with  such  repulsive  gravity  ? 
I  watched  you  the  whole  time  he  was  speaking  to 
you,  and  really  never  saw  any  thing  so  petrifying  as 


152 

your  countenance.     What  did  he  say  to  you,  may  I 
ask  ?" 

"  He  talked  to  me,  I  believe,"  answered  Clarentine 
negligently,  "of  the  dulcet  benignity  of  my  physiog- 
nomy /" 

Mr.  Manners  laughed  heartily  at  this  reply,  and 
was  proceeding  to  question  her  further,  when  a  ser- 
vant approaching  him,  said  something  in  alow  voice, 
and  the  next  moment  apologising  to  his  partner  for 
quitting  her  an  instant,  he  hastened  out  of  the 
room. 

Clarentine,  relieved  by  this  unexpected  summons, 
and  in  no  humour  to  begin  any  conversation  with 
her  unknown  neighbours,  was  now  permitted  to  go 
up  the  dance  very  quietly  ;  and  although  she  yet 
scarce  knew  one  step  of  the  figure,  was  within  two 
couples  of  the  top,  when,  casting  her  eyes  accident- 
ally towards  the  door,  she  saw  Mr.  Manners  re-enter 
the  room,  immediately  followed  by  Capt:\in  Somer- 
set ! 

An  involuntary,  but  scarce  audible  exclamation  of 
"  Good  God  !"  escaped  her  ;  and  changing  colour, 
it  was  with  difficulty  she  knew  how  to  keep  her  place, 
or  stammer  out  a  faint  excuse  for  the  sudden  start 
and  ejaculation  which  had  given  rise  in  her  nearest 
neighbours  to  so  much  astonishment. 

Meanwhile  Somerset,  stili  following  his  friend, 
was  introduced  by  him  to  his  mother  and  sister,  the 
latter  of  whom,  after  a  short  conversation,  he  led  to- 
wards the  dancers,  and  stood  up  with  himself,  whilst 
Mr.  Manners,  apparently  much  satisfied  v/ith  this 
arrangement,  returned  to  his  former  station,  and, 
but  that  he  was  prevented  by  her  being  now  obliged 
to  begin  the  dance,  seemed  very  much  inclined  to  re- 
turn likewise  to  his  former  amusement — questioning 
and  observing  Clarentine. 

Never  was  a  dance  worse  gone  down,  or  a  figure 
more  miserably  blundered.     Mr.  VVestbury,  as  ab- 


153 

sent  from  airs  and  ton  as  Clarentinc  was  from  real 
agitation,  affected  as  little  to  know  what  he  was  about 
as  herself;  and  sometimes  standing  quite  still,  at 
others  roughly,  yet  carelessly  twisting  every  body 
round  who  came  in  his  way,  he  made  such  a  horrible 
confused  business  of  it,  that  Clarentine,  ashamed  of 
the  observation  they  both  excited  before  they  reach- 
ed the  bottom,  entreated  him  to  let  her  sit  down,  and 
without  waiting  for  an  answer  ran  to  the  first  vacant 
seat  she  saw. 

Persuaded  now  that  Somerset  either  knew  not 
that  she  was  in  the  rodm,  or  forbore  speaking  to  her 
through  pique,  she  thought  herself  secure,  in  the  re- 
mote corner  to  which  she  had  retired,  of  not  being 
noticed,  and  followed  him  with  her  eyes  through  the 
whole  dance.  Naturally  well  bred,  and  always  ex- 
tremely attentive  to  women,  he  conversed,  she  saw, 
occasionally  with  his  lively  partner,  but  with  so  little 
of  his  usual  animation,  and  an  air  so  absent,  and  even 
for  him,  negligent,  that  it  was  evident  his  thoughts 
were  widely  wandering  from  the  subjects  he  discuss- 
ed, and  scarcely  permitted  him  to  speak  upon  them 
with  common  presence  of  mind. 

When  the  dance  was  concluded,  and  the  ladies 
were  all  hastily  flying  to  their  seats,  Somerset  in 
passing  Clarentine's  to  conduct  Miss  Manners  to  one 
near  it,  at  length  saw  and  knew  her.  He  stopped  ;  a 
deep  glow  instantly  overspread  his  face,  his  eyes 
sparkled  with  delight,  and  unconsciously  quitting  his 
fair  companion,  he  advanced  eagerly  towards  her, 
saying,  "  Miss  Delmington  !  and  I  not  know  she  was 
here  !  not  perceive  her  before  !" 

"•  That,"  replied  Clarentine,  forcing  a  smile,  and 
attempting  to  speak  with  composure,  "  is  by  no 
means  wonderful,  as  I  have  been  sitting  stilL  during 
the  greatest  part  of  the  dance." 

Just  then  they  were  joined  by  Mr.  Manners,  who 
seemed  purposely  to  have  forborne  mentioning  Cla- 


154 

lentine  to  his  friend,  for  the  malicious  pleasure  of 
witnessing  the  first  effects  of  his  surprise  on  behold- 
ing her. 

"  Mr.  Somerset,"  said  he  gravely,  "  w  ill  you  have 
the  goodness  to  conclude  one  part  of  your  business 
before  you  take  any  other  in  hand  ?  My  sister  is 
waiting  for  you  to  find  her  a  seat." 

Somerset  looked  a  little  disconcerted,  but  affect- 
ing to  laugh,  was  actually  going  to  repair  his  omis- 
sion, when  he  perceived  Miss  Manners  very  com- 
posedly leaning  back  in  a  chair  talking  to  some  gen- 
tleman at  the  upper  end  of  the  room. 

"  Your  sister,"  cried  he,  turning  round  again,  "  is 
already  placed ;"  then  once  more  addressing  Claren- 
tine,  *'  have  you  no  wish,"  said  he,  "  to  hear  how  I 
left  your  friends  at  Delmington,  and  Moiit  Repos  .^" 

The  mere  name  of  the  last  mentioned  place  made 
her  colour  by  bringing  to  her  mind  the  letter  she 
had  so  lately  received :  however  she  immediately 
said  "  I  hope  they  were  all  well  ?" 

"  Yes,  perfectly  ;  indeed  I  think  I  never  saw  any 
of  the  party  look  better. 

"  Does  Lord  Welwyn  still  intend  coming  to  town 
next  spring  ?" 

*'  He  seems  determined  upon  it ;  there  is  one  in- 
dividual in  that  part  of  the  world,  however,  who  I 
fancy  you  will  see  yet  sooner." 

"  Sir  Edgar,  do  you  mean  ?" 

"  No  :  his  gay  sister." 

"  And  what  should  bring  her  to  town  alone  ? 

"  She  will  not  come  alone." 

"  Good  heaven,  then,"  exclaimed  Clarentine,  "  is 
she  married  ?" 

"  O,  now,"  cried  Somerset,  laughing,  "  you  are  a 
little  too  precipitate  !  No,  she  is  not  yet  married, 
nor,  I  believe,  aware  of  the  danger  she  is  in  of  soon 
being  so  !  but  appearances  are  strongly  against  her  : 
she  is  really  sometimes  almost  grave," 


155 

<*  If  that,"  said  Mr.  Manners,  who  had  hitherto 
listened  in  silence  to  this  little  dialogue,  "  is  a  symp- 
tom of  impending  matrimony,  how  soon  we  may  ex- 
pect to  see  Miss  Delmington  under  some  other 
name  !" 

"vl^s  she  then,"  asked  Somerset,  anxiously  fixing 
her  blushing  face,  "  so  very  grave  ?" 

"  Grave  !  she  is  even  taciturn,  and  so  subject  to 
Jits  of  absence^  she  forgets  almost  every  thing." 

"  I  conclude,"  said  the  conscious  Clarentine,  ad- 
dressing Somerset,  "  you  know  enough  of  Mr.  Man- 
ners, not  to  give  implicit  credit  to  his  ironical  ex- 
pressions ?" 

"  O,  if  I  thought  Somerset  doubted  me,"  cried  he^ 
"  I  would  give  him  a  few  instajices  directly." 

"  No,  pray  don't  trouble  yourself,  but  let  me  hear 
what  further  Mr.  Somerset  has  to  say  concerning 
Miss  Delmington." 

"  O,  his  distress  on  account  of  your  reported 
gravity  has  put  all  that  out  of  his  head ;  you'll  get 
nothing  more  from  him.  Miss  Delmington,  unless 
when  he  has  recovered  his  consternation  a  little,  you 
choose  to  take  him  for  your  partner  during  the  two 
next  dances,  instead  of  me.** 

"  Setting  aside  all  personal  vanity,**  cried  So- 
merset, "  upon  my  word,  Miss  Delmington,  I  think 
you  will  profit  by  the  exchange,  since  at  least,  in  me, 
you  will  loe  sure  of  not  finding  a  tormentor.'* 

"  I  accept  the  offer  then,"  said  Clarentine,  (and 
she  never  spoke  more  truly,)  "  with  gratitude." 

Somerset  bowed  his  thanks,  and  looked  them  yet 
more  expressively ;  whilst  Mr.  Manners,  leaning 
down,  said  to  her  in  a  low  voice — "  This,  I  think, 
is  the  Jirst  time  I  have  ever  been  so  fortunate  as  to 
do  any  thing  you  sincerely  approved  ?" 

''  I  hope,  at  least,"  said  Clarentine,  endeavouring 
to  rally,  "  it  will  not  be  the  last^^^ — and  then,  seeing 


156 

young  Westbury  advancing  towards  her,  she  arose, 
and  once  more  accompanied  him  to  the  dancers. 

Somerset's  looks,  his  voice,  his  manner  of  addres- 
sing her,  operated  upon  Clarentine  with  the  force  of 
enchantment,  and  dispelled  insensibly,  but  entirely,  the 
thoughtfulness  and  dejection  that  had  rendered  her 
so  indifferent  to  every  thing  daring  the  early  part  of 
the  evening.  Restored  to  all  her  natural  cheerful- 
ness and  vivacity,  no  cloud  sat  now  upon  her  brow, 
no  sadness  oppressed  her  heart ;  but  re -animated  by 
the  mere  pleasure,  after  so  long  an  absence,  of  again 
beholding  him,  a  smile  of  innocent  gladness  played 
upon  her  lips,  and  an  expression  of  delight  beamed 
in  her  eyes. 

Heedless,  therefore,  how  her  insipid  partner  ac- 
quitted himself,  she  went  down  the  dance  with  a 
lightness  and  activity  that  appeared  no  less  to  shock 
and  confound  him,  than  it  amused  the  observant  Mr. 
Manners,  who  following  her,  when,  breathless  but 
not  dispirited,  she  went  back  to  her  seat,  said  with  a 
look  more  than  usually  provoking — "  I  really  begin 
to  think.  Miss  Delmington,  I  shall  not  have  fortitude 
sufficient  to  renounce  my  prior  claim.  You  went  down 
this  last  dance  so  admirably,  seeming  '  to  rise  from  the 
ground  like  feathered  Mercury ^^  that  I  could  have 
dashed  my  head  against  the  wall  for  very  madness, 
at  the  idea  of  having  been  blockhead  enough  to  give 
you  up  ! — Come,"  added  he,  "  be  generous  and  ac- 
cept me  again  :  I  dare  say  Somerset  will  be  perfect- 
ly content  to  go  on  with  my  sister." 

"  Mr.  Somerset,**  said  Clarentine,  a  little  drily, 
*•  may  go  on  with  whom  he  pleases,  but  at  all  events, 
I  look  upon  the  engagement.  Sir,  between  you  and 
me  as  dissolved,  and  must  beg  you  will  excuse  my 
renewing  it." 

"  Good  God,  then  why  did  you  dance  this  last 
time  so  provokingly  well,  and  the  iirst  so  languidly 


157 

ill?  I  really  thought  you  had  been  indisposed,  and 
did  not  wish  to  stand  up." 

"  And  with  that  idea  you  imagined  it  was  doing 
your  friend  a  great  favour  to  consign  me  over  to 
him  !" 

•■'  O,  I  could  not  tell  what  change  his  powers  of 
entertainment  might  produce,  and  hoped  he  would 
enliven  and  revive  you ;  mine  I  distrusted." 

*'  And  indeed  you  did  well,  for  I  think  if  I  was 
to  listen  to  you  much  longer  you  would  make  me 
completely  low-spirited  !'* 

"  Le  compliment  est  gallant  I'*  cried  he,  laughing. 

''  I  am  afraid  not;**  said  Clarentine,  "  but  really 
you  fulfil  your  promise,  or  rather  your  threat,  so  li- 
terally, that  you  sometimes  exercise  my  patience  too 
much." 

"  I  find  then,"  cried  Mr.  Manners,  "  you  reserve 
your  dulcet  benignity  for  the  fortunate  Mr.  Lea ;  at 
least  you  seemed  infinitely  more  patient  with  him 
than  you  ever  are  with  me." 

"  He  only  wearied — you  purposely  provoke  me." 

"  O  there's  no  harm  in  that,  since  at  any  time  I  had 
rather  be  said  to  partake  of  the  nature  of  a  provoca- 
tive than  a  soporific  !" 

Here  Miss  Manners  advanced  towards  them,  to 
intreat  Clarentine  would  make  one  in  a  set  that  was 
going  to  be  formed  for  dancing  a  reel — "  Nav,  don't 
look  shy,"  added  she,  seeing  her  shrink  from  the  idea 
of  so  public  an  exhibition,  "  you  won't  be  at  all  con- 
spicuous, for  I  hope  to  get  enough  to  make  a  double 
set."  And  then  taking  her  hand,  and  drawing  her 
away,  she  allowed  her  no  time  either  for  hesitation 
or  objection. 

Dancing  among  the  liveliest  and  the  most  airy  young- 
people  in  the  room,  Clarentine,  to  her  utter  conster- 
nation, now  beheld  the  profound  and  scientific  Mr. 
Lea,  aflfecting  all  the  alertness  and  vivacity  of  a  youth. 

Vol.  IL  O 


158 

with  all  the  sober  symptoms  in  his  countenance  of  a 

man  bordering  upon  his  grand  climacteric.  Not  hav- 
ing been  able  to  procure  a  partner  to  his  taste  (he 
was  a  great  admirer  of  youth  and  beauty)  for  the 
country  dances,  he  had,  at  last,  thrust  himself  into 
one  of  the  reels,  and  much  to  his  own  satisfaction, 
and  yet  more  to  the  amusement  of  every  tittering  miss 
in  the  room,  was  displaying  all  his  attitudes  and  gra- 
ces to  infinite  advantage. 

The  moment  the  dance  was  over,  a  young  lady, 
who  as  well  as  Clarentine,  had  been  engaged  in  it, 
flew  after  her  as  she  was  returning  to  her  seat,  and 
eagerly  called  out — "  Lord,  Miss  Delmington,  can 
you  possibly  tell  who  that  droll  little  old  man  is,  who 
has  been  smirking  and  skipping  away  with  us  so  odd- 
ly?" 

"No,"  answered  Clarentine,  smiling,  "I  know 
nothing  more  of  him  than  his  name;  but  here  comes 
Mr.  Manners,  who  can  perhaps  give  you  better  infor- 
mation." 

To  Mr.  Manners,  therefore,  the  fair  enquirer  next 
applied,  who  with  great  solemnity  assured  her  Mr, 
Lea  was  a  gallant  bachelor,  with  a  large  fortune,  and 
very  much  worth  captivating  by  any  single  lady  wh6 
might  be  allured  by  his  appearance. 

"  He  rich  ?"  cried  she,  with  a  look  of  contempt — 
"  Dear,  that's  impossible ;  he's  got  the  shabbiest  coat 
I  ever  saw  in  my  life." 

"You  must  not  judge  of  male  Grecians  by  their 
dress;"  said  Mr.  Manners,  "it  should  be  left  to  the 
modern y^m^/^  Grecians  to  distinguish  themselves  in 
that  way !" 

"  Lord,  what  don't  you  like  the  present  style  of 
dress  .^" 

"  It  renders  you  so  fascinating,  that  I  am  afraid  of 
fiking  ic  too  well." 

Satisfied  with  this  little  compliment,  the  pretty  Gre- 
ciati  then  tripped  away. 


159 

When  she  was  gone — "  Is  it  really  true,  Mr.  Man- 
ners," said  Clarentine,  "  that  Mr.  Lea  is  what  you 
told  Qs — a  man  of  fortune?" 

"  Yes,  upon  my  honour,  have  you  any  designs  in 
consequence  ?'* 

"  I  think  he  would  make  an  excellent  husband  for 
Mrs.  Westbury." 

"  O  no,  they  are  too  much  alike." 

"  Don't  you  approve  then  of  a  similarity  of  dis- 
positions and  pursuits  between  married  people  ?" 

"Not  to  too  great  an  extent:  it  either  engenders 
a  spirit  of  rivalry  and  contention  between  them,  or 
makes  them  completely  fade  and  mawkish,  always 
echoing  to  each  other  the  same  unmeaning  "  yes,  my 
dear,"  and  "  no,  my  dear." 

Somerset,  who,  during  the  reel  had  been  talking  in 
the  card-room  with  Mrs.  Denbigh,  now  approached 
to  claim  his  ready  partner.  Mr.  Manners  affected 
to  resign  her  with  the  most  violent  murmurings,  but 
at  length,  suffering  her  to  go,  said  he  would  guard  her 
seat  during  her  absence,  finding  it  impossible  to 
dance  again  after  making  such  a  sacrifice. 

Whilst  they  stood  up,  before  they  were  too  much 
engaged  in  the  dance  to  be  able  to  converse,  Claren- 
tine and  Somerset,  with  apparently  equal  pleasure, 
renewed  their  discourse  upon  the  subject  of  Delming- 
ton  and  its  neighbourhood.  He  confirmed  what  he 
had  already  hinted  of  the  mutual  partiality  of  Eltham 
and  Sophia ;  and  said,  that  from  the  very  great  satis- 
faction with  which  Lord  Welwyn  seemed  to  observe 
it,  he  had  not  a  doubt  of  his  giving  the  readiest  con- 
currence to  the  match.  "  Lady  Delmington,  how- 
ever,'* added  he,  "  like  an  anxious  and  tender  mother, 
is  evidently  in  some  little  alarm  (Mr.  Eltham  not 
having  yet  declared  himself)  for  her  daughter*s  tran- 
quillity and  happiness.  She  knows  not  how  to  re- 
fuse him  admittance,  and  yet  his  daily  visits,  I  saw, 
gave  her  uneasiness :  she  thinks  him  insinuating  and 


160 

agreeable,  and  should  he  now  fly  ofT,  I  fear,  judges 
very  rightly  that  poor  Sophia's  gaiety  would  fly  off 
w^ith  him." 

"  Ah,  how  cruel  it  would  be  in  any  man,"  cried 
Clarentine,  earnestly,  "  to  destroy  a  gaiety  so  inno- 
cent and  playful ! — 1  could  never  forgive  Mr.  Eltham 
if  he  was  the  cause  of  doing  this  by  my  excellent 
Sophia !" 

"  I  sincerely  believe,"  cried  Somerset,  "  he  has  no 
such  design,  and  his  uncle  appears  convinced  of  it." 

Clarentine  was  very  anxious  to  know,  how,  on 
their  first  meeting,  Eltham  had  behaved  to  Somerset ; 
but  before  she  had  gained  courage  to  attempt  any 
direct  enquiry,  he  changed  the  subject,  and  asked 
her  when  she  thought  of  leaving  Bath — 

u  \ye  go  to-morrow,"  answered  she. 

"  To-morrow  ?"  repeated  Somerst.  "  Do  you  in- 
deed ?  And  how,  Miss  Delmington,  after  all  the 
gaiety  in  which  you  have  here  been  engaged,  will 
you  be  able  to  endure  the  privacy  and  retirement  of 
Mr.  Lenham's  house  ?" 

"  Shall  I  gain  credit,"  replied  she,  smiling,  "  if  I 
tell  you  that  all  this  dissipation  has  wearied  me,  and 
that  I  shall  rejoice  on  being  restored  to  my  former 
way  of  life  ?" 

"  Yes,"  cried  he,  warmly,  "  credit  of  every  de- 
scription !" 

They  were  now  interrupted  by  being  obliged  to 
join  in  the  dance,  during  the  rest  of  which  they  had 
very  little  opportunity  for  continuing  the  conversa- 
tion. 

When  Clarentine  moved  towards  her  seat,  Mr. 
Manners,  she  found,  had  kept  his  word,  and  guard- 
ed it  for  her  most  strictly.  On  seeing  her  advance, 
he  instantly  yielded  it ;  but  choosing  to  station  him- 
self by  her  side,  nothing  further  was  said  but  upon 
general  subjects,  and  at  the  end  of  her  second  dance 
with  Somerset,  Mrs.  Denbigh  called  her  to  go  home. 


161 

"  At  what  hour  in  the  morning,"  said  Somerset,  as 
he  led  her  out,  "  do  you  set  off  ?" 

"  At  nine  o'clock,  I  believe.'* 

"  And  will  you  allow  me  to  breakfast  with  you  be- 
fore you  go  r" 

«  Certainly !" 

"  Good  night  then,  dearest  Miss  Delmington," 
cried  he,  gently  pressing  her  hand. 

"  Good  night,"  repeated  Clarentine  ;  and  jumping 
into  the  coach,  it  immediately  drove  off. 

Seldom,  even  in  the  earliest  and  happiest  period  of 
her  life,  had  the  heart  of  Clarentine  felt  more  easy, 
more  completely  satisfied,  than  it  did  on  her  return 
from  this  ball.  In  the  absence  of  Mrs.  Hertford,  to 
have  seen,  to  have  conversed  and  spent  the  whole 
evening  with  Somerset,  was  to  her  a  gratification  so 
unexpected,  so  new,  and  so  superior  to  all  others, 
that  she  felt  as  if  it  had  repaid  her  for  every  inqui- 
etude she  had  lately  endured.  What  could  have 
brought  him  so  suddenly  to  Bath  she  neither  found 
it  possible  to  divine,  nor  thought  it  much  worth  her 
while  to  conjecture  ;  it  was  sufficient  for  her  that  he 
xvas  there — that  she  should  again  behold  him  the  fol- 
lowing day — and  that  he  still,  notwithstanding  the 
coldness  of  his  letter,  seemed  to  think  of  her  with 
regard.  There  were  intervals,  when  recollecting  the 
motive  which  he  had  told  Madam  d'Arzele  carried 
him  from  Delmington,  she  faintly  whispered  to  her 
own  heart,  that  it  might  be  perhaps  to  investigate  her 
sentiments  he  was  come  :  afraid,  however,  of  long  in- 
dulging such  an  idea,  she  endeavoured  to  drive  from 
her  mind  all  anticipation  of  the  future,  and  to  rest 
her  thoughts,  contented  and  thankful,  upon  the  sere- 
nity of  the  present. 

Mrs.  Denbigh  before  they  separated  for  the  night, 

observing  the  unwonted  vivacity  that  danced  in  her 

eyes,  and  the  cheerfulness,  as  well  of  her  conversci- 

tion,  as  the  very  tone  of  her  voice,  congratulated  hev 

02 


162 

archly  upon  the  change,  and  very  earnestly  request- 
ed to  know  what  could  possibly  have  occasioned  it? 
Clarentine  blushed  and  laughed,  but  ventured  not  to 
rally  in  return ;  and  soon  after  went  up  to  her  own 
room. 


CHAPTER  XXII. 

BEFORE  Clarentine  had  quite  completed  her 
packing  the  next  morning,  word  was  brought  her 
that  Captain  Somerset  was  below.  The  glad  tidings 
no  sooner  reached  her,  than  despatching  what  else 
remained  to  be  done  with  all  the  quickness  her  half- 
trembling  hands  would  allow,  she  ran  down  stairs  to 
receive  him. 

A  bright  glow  animated  her  whole  countenance  as 
she  entered,  and  in  a  cheerful  voice  she  called  out — 
"  You  would  teach  us  to  keep  early  hours,  Mr.  So- 
merset, %vere  you  often  to  breakfast  with  us." 

"  I  should  be  happy,"  said  he,  taking  her  hand  and 
gazing  delightedly  at  her,  "  to  teach  you  any  thing 
that  has  the  power  of  making  you  look  so  well." 

Clarentine  was  too  conscious  of  the  emotion  which 
had  occasioned  these  good  looks,  to  receive  this 
compliment  entirely  without  embarrassment ;  chang- 
ing the  subject  therefore  directly,  she  withdrew  her 
hand,  and  as  she  seated  herself,  said — "  I  am  afraid, 
as  Mrs.  Denbigh  is  not  yet  ready,  it  will  be  rather 
late  before  we  have  done  breakfast  and  can  set  out." 

"  I  hope,  however,  if  it  should,"  cried  he,  "  you 
will  think  your  escort  strong  enough  to  banish  all 
alarm." 

Clarentine  looked  surprised,  and  Somerset  watch- 
ing her  countenance  whilst  he  spoke,  added — •"  You 
will  not,  I  flatter  myself,  Miss  Delmington,  oppose 


163 

my  intention  of  attending  you  in  a  separate  chaise  to 
London?" 

'-  Scarcely  able  to  conceal  the  pleasure  this  inti- 
mation gave  her,  Clarentine  cast  down  her  eyes,  and 
in  a  low  voice  answered — "  No,  certainly— if  you — 
if  it  was  your  design  to  leave  Bath  so  soon." 

"  I  had  but  one  reason  for  visiting  Bath  at  all," 
cried  he,  "  and  that  cannot  be  answered  by  my  now 
making  any  longer  stay  at  it." 

Uncertain  how  she  ought  to  understand  these 
words,  and  desirous,  at  least,  that  he  should  not  sup- 
pose she  applied  them  to  herself,  Clarentine  now 
said — 

"  Is  Mr.  Manners  also  going  to  town  ?" 

"  I  believe  not." 

"  If  so,  you  have  surely  made  him  a  very  short 
visit  ?" 

"  I  do  not  think  he  appropriates  any  part  of  it  to 
himself." 

Clarentine  now  rose  up,  and  moving  towards  the 
breakfast  table,  said  with  a  half  smile — "  You  are 
quite  enigmatical  this  morning,  Mr.  Somerset,  I  am 
not  at  all  equal  to  comprehend  you."  And  then  beg- 
ging him  to  ring  the  bell,  she  busied  herself  in  pre- 
paring the  things  for  making  tea. 

Somerset,  without  attending  to  her  request,  or 
seeming  to  hear  it,  was  approaching  her  and  begin- 
ning to  speak  again,  when  the  door  opened,  and  Mrs. 
Denbigh  appeared.  He  bit  his  lips,  and  immedi- 
ately retreating,  bowed  to  her  from  the  place  where 
he  had  before  stood,  but  seemed  unable  to  utter  a 
word. 

Mrs.  Denbigh  finding  them  both  thus  mute  (for 
Clarentine,  from  the  instant  he  had  advanced,  had 
felt  a  degree  of  agitation  that  now  rendered  her  as 
incapable  of  speaking  as  himself),  at  length  said  with 
a  laugh — "  How  long  has  this  reciprocal  silence  last^ 
ed — and  how  much  longer  is  it  to  last  ?'* 


164 

Somerset  recovering  first,  with  a  forced  smile,  an- 
swered—" Attribute  it  to  we,  Madam  j  Miss  Del- 
mington  accused  me  when  I  did  speak  of  doing  it  so 
unintelligibly,  that  I  not  only  became  fearful  of  at- 
tempting it  again,  but  communicated  to  her  a  share 
of  my  own  taciturnity." 

"  Mysteriousness  seems  to  be  a  reigning  fashion," 
said  Mrs.  Denbigh,  "  among  the  young  men  of  the 
present  day  ;  your  friend  Mr.  Manners  is  so  incom- 
prehensible sometimes,  that  he  sat  here  talking  to  us 
a  quarter  of  an  hour  the  other  morning  without  its 
being  possible  for  either  Clarentine  or  me  to  under- 
stand one  word  he  said." 

Then  turning  to  her — "  Have  you  made  the  tea,  my 
dear  ?  We  shall  be  very  late,  I  fear." 

Clarentine,  relieved  by  this  change  of  conversation, 
repeated  her  request  to  Somerset  that  he  would  ring 
the  bell,  and  soon  after,  the  servant  bringing  up  the 
water,  they  went  to  breakfast. 

At  the  appointed  time  the  chaise  Mrs.  Denbigh 
had  ordered  was  at  the  door,  and  the  next  minute  a 
second,  attended  by  one  of  Somerset's  servants  on 
horseback,  drove  up  likewise. 

»'  Why,  pray,"  said  Mrs.  Denbigh,  as  she  was 
passing  the  window,  "  what  are  we  to  do  with  two 
chaises  ?  and  whose  servant  is  that  ?" 

Somerset  thtn  informed  her  of  his  design  of  accom- 
panying them. 

"  Oh,  you  go  with  us  Sir,  do  you  ?  Then  let  me 
beg  your  postillion  may  take  the  lead,  that  in  case  we 
are  stopped,  the  robbers  may  get  the  richest  booty 
first,  and  afterwards  come  to  us  in  good  humour." 

"  Ah,  Madam,"  cried  Somerset,  "they  would  think 
no  prize  so  precious  as  that  your  chaise  will  con- 
tain." 

"  Umph  ! — W^as  that  compliment  addressed  to  the 
beauties  of  my  person^  or  the  charms  of  Clarentine^s 
mindr' 


165 

**  We  will  divide  it  between  us,"  cried  Clarentine, 
*'  and  each  take  our  share  as  well  of  what  belongs  to 
the  person  as  the  mind." 

During  this  time  the  servants  had  been  busied  in 
cording  the  trunks  behind  the  chaise,  and  arranging 
every  thiijg  preparatory  to  their  setting  out.  When 
this  was  done,  Mrs.  Denbigh's  man  came  to  announce 
its  being  ready,  and  Somerset,  assisting  her  and  Cla- 
rentine to  enter  it,  bade  them  farewel  till  they  met 
at  dinner,  and  hastening  to  his  own  solitary  vehicle, 
got  into  it  and  drove  after  them. 

"Well,  my  young  friend,"  said  Mrs.  Denbigh,  af- 
ter they  had  rode  on  some  time  in  silence,  "does  your 
heart  feel  as  light  just  now,  as  your  countenance  looks 
complacent  ?  It  is  a  very  agreeable  thing,  don't  you 
allow,  to  travel  at  one's  ease  under  safe  and  pleasant 
convoy,  and  to  have  it  in  one's  power,  in  case  of  ac- 
cident, to  make  signals  to  the  guard-ship^  and  call  it 
up  in  a  moment  ?" 

"  Yes,"  answered  Clarentine,  laughing,  *'  very  a- 
greeable." 

"Spoken  out  like  an  honest,  good  girl!"  cried 
Mrs.  Denbigh.  But  pray  now,  tell  me  what  brought 
our  protector  to  Bath  so  opportunely  ?" 

"  Indeed,  Madam,  I  know  no  more  than  your- 
self." 

"  You  did  not  expect  to  see  him  when  you  went 
to  the  ball  last  night  ?" 

"  No  certainly." 

"  Has  he  yet  spoken  to  you  of  Mrs.  Hertford  at 
all?" 

"  Not  one  word." 

"  Should  you  have  any  objection  to  my  asking  him, 
as  cautiously  as  I  can,  a  few  questions  concerning 
her?" 

Clarentine  hesitated  a  moment,  but  at  length  said 
— "  If  you  will  have  the  goodness  to  make  your  en- 
quiries when  I  am  not  present,  none  in  the  world." 


166 

**  Very  well  then,  I  shall  set  about  it  as  soon  as  we 
arrive  at  the  inn,  if  I  can  find  an  opportunity." 

Clarentine  now  infinitely  better  fitted  to  relate  such 
an  anecdote  with  composure  than  she  had  been  the 
preceding  day,  communicated  to  Mrs.  Denbigh  the 
truly  generous  action  she  had  heard  of  Somerset  from 
Madame  d'Arzele.  The  story  made  that  lady's  eyes 
glisttn  with  tears,  and  became  the  subject  of  their 
conversation  during  the  greatest  part  of  the  mornmg. 

Amongst  other  things — *'  I  have  long  known," 
said  Mrs.  Denbigh,  '^  this  youthful  guardian  of  yours, 
and  long  believed  that, '' take  him  for  all  in  all,' 
there  does  not  exist  a  man  upon  earth  %vith  a  more 
noble  spirit,  or  a  kinder  heart ;  these  virtues,  how- 
ever, and  the  conciliating  gentleness  of  his  manners, 
make  him  but  the  more  dangerous  where  he  is  belov- 
ed without  a  certainty  of  return ;  and  I  could  almost 
regret,  immediately  after  your  having  heard  of  him 
such  an  account,  that  he  had  not  taken  it  into  his 
head  to  go  any  where  rather  than  where  you  could 
meet  him." 

"  Oh,  dearest  Madam,"  cried  Clarentine,  "  har- 
bour not  such  a  regret !  His  presence  has  composed, 
has  soothed  and  been  more  beneficial  to  me  than  I 
have  power  to  describe.  I  have  now  brought  myself 
to  such  a  state  of  mind,  that  I  have  no  longer  any 
expectations,  and  I  believe  shall  be  affected  by  no 
disappointment ;  to  see  him  as  a  friend  is  all  I  wish, 
and—-" 

"  Pooh,  pooh !  you  are  talking  romance  and  pla- 
tonism  to  me  again  !  Be  firm  and  resolute,  Claren- 
tine, and  either  determine  to  avoid  seeing  him  in  fu- 
ture at  all,  or  endeavour  to  assure  yourself  you  can 
see  him  upon  some  less  delusive  system." 

"  Endeavour  to  assure  myself!"  repeated  Claren- 
tine, a  little  dismayed — "  Good  Heaven,  Madam,  how 
would  you  have  me  effect  this  ?" 

"  You  sent  off  Mr.  Ehham  for  dangling  idly  after 


167 

you,  and  not  decl^iring  himself ;  send  Mr.  Somerset 
off  for  the  same  reason." 

"  Dear  Madam,  can  the  attention  he  pays  me  be 
caWtd  dangling- ?  Does  it  at  all  resemble  Mr.  El- 
tham's  ?  And  is  he  not  much  more  authorised  to  pay 
it  in  his  double  connexion  of  guardian  and  relation  ?" 

"  If  that  attention  was  not  destructive  to  your 
peace,  I  should  say  he  was  :  but,  Clarentine,  do  you 
believe  you  can  ever  persuade  me  it  will  be  possible 
for  you  to  return  to  common  sense  whilst  you  are 
hourly  receiving  it  without  knowing  the  design  with 
which  it  is  paid  ?  A  young  woman  should  either  be 
very  certain  of  the  mutual  affection  of  a  man  she 
loves,  or  sedulously  renounce  his  society,  since  ab- 
sence, as  your  friend  Sophia  says,  is  the  only  cure 
for  ill-placed  partiality." 

"  I  did  not  find,"  said  Clarentine,  suppressing  a 
sigh,  "  that  my  cure  had  made  any  great  progress  du- 
ring the  two  months  we  staid  at  Bath." 

"  Tzuo  months !  six  months  my  dear  child,  would 
scarcely  be  enough  to  eradicate  your  complaint !  You 
have  indulged  it,  as  if  you  apprehended  the  recovery 
would  be  worse  than  the  disease.  However,  I  will 
say  no  more  upon  the  subject  just  now  ;  you  have  got 
into  a  sort  of  fool's  paradise  (pardon  the  expression) 
from  which  it  is  almost  pity  to  recal  you  ;  and  so 
here  for  the  present  ends  my  lecture. 

She  then  began  talking  of  indifferent  things. 
During  the  remainder  of  that  day's  journey  no- 
thing material  occurred  :  Mrs.  Denbigh  had  no  op-» 
portunity  of  making  the  enquiries  she  meditated,  nor 
had  Somerset  any  of  speaking  to  Clarentine  apart, 
They  all  appeared  cheerful  and  happy  when  they 
met  ;  spent  the  evening  in  perfect  harmony,  and  se- 
parated at  night  in  unabated  good  spirits. 

The  next  morning,  about  a  quarter  of  an  hour  be- 
fore they  left  the  inn  at  which  they  slept,  Mrs.  Den- 
bigh calling  after  Somerset,  as  he  was  leaving  the 


168 

room  to  give  some  orders  to  his  servant,  begged  him 
to  shew  her  a  letter  he  had  promised  to  let  her  read 
from  Mr.  Lenham,  containing  some  public  news  they 
had  been  talking  over  during  breakfast.  Somerset, 
hastily  feeling  in  his  pocket  as  he  stood  with  the  door 
half  open  in  his  hand,  delivered  the  letter  to  Claren- 
tine,  who  just  then  happened  to  pass  him,  and  saying, 
"  will  you  have  the  goodness  to  give  it  to  Mrs.  Den- 
bigh ?"  ran  away  expecting  the  chaises  would  be  an- 
nounced every  minute. 

Mrs.  Denbigh  opened  it  as  soon  as  he  was  gone, 
whilst  Clarentine,  not  knowing  how  to  fill  up  so 
comfortless  an  interval,  traversed  the  room  with 
listless  steps,  stopping  from  time  to  time  to  observe 
what  was  passing  in  the  inn  yard,  and  then  renewing 
her  walk. 

In  less  than  ten  minutes  Somerset  returned,  and 
Mrs.  Denbigh  gravely  folding  up  the  letter,  present- 
ed it  to  him  with  great  formality,  and  said,  "  I'hank 
you,  Sir,  for  the  perusal  of  this  ;  will  you  now  be  so 
obliging  as  to  favour  me  with  a  sight  of  what  Mr. 
Lenham  writes  r" 

Somerset  stared  at  first  without  comprehending 
her,  but  the  next  moment,  casting  his  eyes  upon  the 
direction,  eagerly  seized  it,  and,  colouring  very 
high,  said  in  great  confusion,  "  I  beg  your  pardon 
— it  was  a'mistake — this,"  taking  another  letter  from 
his  pocket,  "  is  what  I  intended,  Madam,  to  shew 
you." 

"  I  would  advise  you  in  future,*'  said  Mrs.  Den- 
bigh, rather  drily,  "  to  be  more  careful :  these  mis- 
takes may  sometimes  be  a  little  awkward.'* 

Clarentine,  during  this  short  dialogue,  had  stood 
at  the  window,  looking  first  at  one,  then  at  the  other, 
with  the  utmost  surprise  and  perplexity.  She  would 
have  given  the  world  to  know  with  certainty  whose 
the  letter  was,  suspecting  by  Somerset's  embarrass- 
ment it  could  be  from  no  other  than  Mrs.  Hertford : 


169 

not  having  courage,  however,  to  hazard  the  least  en- 
quiry, even  in  raillery,  she  turned  away  on  perceiv- 
ing Somerset  was  looking  at  her,  and  felt  truly  re- 
joiced when  a  few  minutes  afterwards  they  were 
summoned  to  depart. 

When  the  chaise  drove  on,  unable  any  longer  to 
repress  her  curiosity — 

"  Was  that  letter.  Madam,**  said  she  to  Mrs.  Den- 
bigh, affecting  to  speak  with  indifference,  "from  a 
female  correspondent  r" 

"  No,  from  a  flighty  and  impertinent  male  one." 

"  I  did  not  suspect  Mr.  Somerset  of  having  any 
of  that  description." 

"  Then  you  gave  him  more  credit  than  he  de- 
served.'* 

"  May  I  ask,"  resumed  Clarentine,  hesitatingly, 
«wh.   i" 

"  You  had  better,"  interrupted  Mrs.  Denbigh, 
"  not  ask  any  thing  about  the  matter,  my  dear,  for  it 
could  give  you  no  pleasure  to  hear  an  account  either 
of  the  subject  or  the  style." 

"  Dear  Madam,  did  it  contain  any  thing  that  re- 
lated to  me  :" 

"  I  see  your  curiosity  is  upon  the  rack,  and  there- 
fore till  it  is  gratified  it  would  be  vain,  I  suppose,  to 
expect  any  rest.  Know  then,  my  dear  child,  that 
the  letter  is  from  Mr.  Manners." 

"  Mr.  Manners,'*  repeated  Clarentine,  blushing — 
"Ah  !  then  its  contents,  I  fear,  may  be  too  well 
guessed  !** 

"  Certain  it  is,  at  least,**  resumed  Mrs.  Denbigh, 
"  that  he  appears  to  have  guessed  you  very  thorough- 
ly !  He  writes  from  Bath  some  days  after  his  return 
from  Northamptonshire,  anci  begins  l)y  reproaching 
his  friend  for  denying  his  attachment  to  Mrs.  Hi  rt- 
ford,  and  yet  persisting  i^o  ungratt^fully  in  avoiding 
you.  He  relates  to  him,  in  confirmation  of  r/hat  he 
seems  to  have  told  him  before  of  your  partiality,  the 

Vol.  II.  P 


170 

little  anecdote  of  the  anchor^  upon  which,  and  upon 
your  blushes  and  confusion  at  the  moment  he  found 
it,  he  lays  great  stress,  not  doubting,  I  believe,  its 
being  Somerset's  gift.  Numberless  other  trifling 
circumstances  he  brings  forward  in  support  of  his 
opinion  ;  and  concludes,  after  a  long  and  very  ani- 
mated panegyric  of  you,  by  urging  his  friend,  very 
stren.  ously,  to  renounce  all  connexion  with  thatviper, 
as  he  is  pleased  to  call  her,  Mrs.  Hertford,  of  whom 
he  affirms  to  have  heard  an  exceeding  equivocal  cha-. 
racter,  and  presses  him  to  hasten  immediately  to 
Bath,  to  restore  bloom  to  the  cheeks,  and  happiness 
to  the  gentle  bosom  of  the  fair  and  too  tender  Cla- 
rentine  !" 

Thunderstruck  by  this  mortifying  detail,  shocked 
to  find  she  had  thus  cruelly  exposed  herself,  not  only 
to  Mr.  Manners,  but,  through  him,  to  Somerset  like- 
wise, Clarentine,  drowned  in  tears,  and  incapable 
of  interrupting  a  relation,  every  word  of  which  was 
a  dagger  to  her  heart,  now  alarmed  Mrs.  Denbigh  so 
much  by  the  almost  convulsive  sobs  which  escaped 
her,  that  reproaching  herself  for  the  facility  with 
which  she  had  yielded  to  her  desire  of  information, 
she  attempted — but  for  some  tiuie  attempted  in  vain 
— to  soothe  and  compose  her  by  every  argument  she 
could  devise. 

When  at  length,  however,  the  distressed  girl  had 
somewhat  recovered,  and  was  able  to  speak,  "  Oh  ! 
dearest  Mrs.  Denbigh,"  cried  she,  hiding  her  face 
upon  her  shoulder,  "  how  am  I  ever  to  meet  Mr. 
Somerset  again  ?  Indeed,  indeed,  I  cannot  bear  to 
think  of  it !  He  will  know  you  have  reported  to  me 
every  word  of  that  hateful  letter,  and  from  my  looks 
Avill  endeavour  to  discover  the  truth  of  its  contents. 
Where  can  I  conceal  my  consciousness  and  my 
shame  ?'* 

Mrs.   Denbigh,   to   calm   her   a   little,   then  told 
her,  that  upon  pretence  of  fatigue  and  indisposition, 


171 

she  might,  when  they  stopped  to  dine,  retire  to  a  pri- 
vate room,  and  have  some  refreshment  sent  her,  with- 
out appearing  at  their  meal  at  all.  Clarentine  most 
eagerly  embraced  this  proposal,  and  thanking  Mrs. 
Denbigh  a  thousand  times  for  her  considerate  kindness 
in  making  it,  recurred  the  next  minute,  once  again  to 
the  subject  of  the  letter. 

"  It  was  pity  then,"  cried  she,  "  pity  for  my  self- 
betrayed  weakness  and  folly,  that  brought  ^\y.  So- 
merset to  Bath  !  His  love  for  Mrs.  Hcrtierd  may 
not,  nay,  probably  is  not  at  all  diminished,  iv-twith- 
standing  the  sacrifice  his  friend's  urgency  in  ;uy  be- 
half might,  perhaps,  from  motives  of  generosity,  im- 
pel him  to  make.  Oh,  dearest  Madam  !  if  you  have 
any  compassion,  any  regard  for  me,  endeavour  to 
undeceive — or  rather,  alas  !  to  mislead  him  with  res- 
pect to  my  real  sentiments!  Tell  him,  I  conjure 
you,  that  Mr.  Manners  was  in  an  error  j  that  to  any 
feelings  of  the  nature  he  suspected  no  part  of  my 
conduct  was  to  be  attributed  j  restore  him,  in  short, 
to  the  full  liberty  he  before  enjoyed,  and  never  let 
me  undergo  the  deep  humiliation  of  being  supposed 
so  strongly  infatuated,  that  nothing  less  than  the  ex- 
torted and  reluctant  vows  of  the  man  I  love  can  save 
or  restore  me  !" 

"  My  dearest  Clarentine,"  cried  Mrs.  Denbigh, 
who  now  saw  her  sufficiently  revived  to  bear  a  little 
raillery,  "  you  are  always  either  upon  stilts  or  upon 
crutches  !  Be  a  little  rational,  and  give  me  no  com- 
missions of  this  sublime,  but  lying  kind.  In  the  first 
place,  without  knowing  the  true  nature  of  Somerset's 
attachment  to  you,  it  would  be  madness  supreme  to 
tell  the  poor  man  you  abhor — you  can't  endure  hini 
— you  wish  him  every  evil  under  Heaven  !  Such 
things  are  never  said  by  moderate  and  civil  girls  ! 
In  the  next  place,  to  oblige  you,  were  I  even  to 
stretch  a  point,  and  falsify  my  conscience  so  grossly, 
it  is  a  thousand  to  one,  whether,  after  what  he  has 


172 

heard,  he  would  take  me  for  any  thing  but  a  super- 
annuated dotard,  telling  fibs  pour  mon  hon  plnishr ^  and 
meddling  in  what  does  not  concern  me.  All  I  mean 
to  do,  therefore,  is  to  listen  quietly  to  the  explanation 
he  will,  no  doubt,  be  himself  solicitous  to  enter  up- 
on, and  to  report  it  to  you  faithfully  and  exactly. 
An  old  woman  who  does  not  wish  to  be  styled  a 
match-maker  or  a  match-breaker^  can,  in  honour,  do 
no  more." 

When  the  chaise  stopped,  and  Somerset,  hastily 
alighting  from  his  own,  advanced  to' hand  the  two 
ladies  out,  unlike  the  smiling  readiness  w^ith  which 
she  had  accepted  his  services  the  day  before,  Claren- 
tine  shrunk  back  when  he  would  have  assisted  her, 
and  without  looking  at  him,  jumping  off  the  step, 
ran  into  the  house,  and  up  stairs  in  a  moment, 
leaving  to  Mrs.  Denbigh  the  care  of  apologising  for 
her,  and  sending  some  one  to  shew  her  to  a  cham- 
ber. 

Confounded  at  her  abrupt  flight,  Somerset  silently 
followed  Mrs.  Denbigh  into  a  parlour,  where,  grave 
and  dejected,  he  threw  himself  into  a  chair  near  the 
door,  seeming  hardly  conscious  that  any  one  was  in 
the  room.  Mrs.  Denbigh  observed  him  some  time 
without  interrupting  his  reverie  ;  at  length-— 

"  Miss  Delmington,"  said  she,  "  is  fatigued  with 
her  journey,  and  not  very  well  to-day  ;  she  has  re- 
tired to  lie  down." 

"  Not  well  ?"  repeated  Somerset,  with  a  look  of 
anxiety,  *'  I  am  grieved  to  hear  it ;  and  yet,"  added 
he,  hesitating,  "  almost  selfish  enough  to  feel,  in 
hearing  it,  a  species  of  relief." 

"  You  imputed  her  silence,  perhaps,  to  a  wrong 
cause  r" 

"  I  hope  I  did  :  Mrs.  Denbigh  could  never  have 
the  cruelty  to  communicate  to  her  the  purport  of 
that  fatal  letter?'* 

"  I  communicated  it,"   said  Mrs.   Denbigh,  "  to 


.jbviate  a  suspicion  of  something  worse  :  she  might 
have  thought,  you  know,  it  was  a  challenge,  or  a 
letter  from  a  dun — or  something  very  disgraceful  in- 
deed!" 

Somerset  now  starting  from  his  seat  in  great  agi- 
tation, exclaimed — 

"  Good  God  !  you  have  really  acquainted  her  with 
its  contents  !  Ah  !  then,  her  coldness  is  but  too  well 
explained  !  she  must  think  me  the  most  vain  and  cre- 
dulous of  men,  and  will  fly  my  sight  as  an  object  of 
detestation !" 

"  No,  not  quite  so  bad  as  that,  we'll  hope  ; — she 
certainly  does  not  wish  to  see  you  just  now,  but 
when  she  gets  over  the  first  shock,  her  anger  will 
chieflv  rest  where  it  is  most  due — with  Mr.  Man- 
ners." 

"  Manners  has  voluntarily  and  doubly  imposed  up- 
on himself^**  cried  Somerset,  "  and  endeavour  to  im- 
pose upon  others  in  a  way  it  gives  me  the  ^utmost 
pain  to  think  of.  With  regard  to  myself,  he  has  per- 
secuted me  with  exhortations  and  remonstrances 
no  less  unnecessary,  than,  upon  such  a  subject,  they 
were  extraordinaiy  :  the  error  he  fell  into  with  res- 
pect to  Miss  Delmington,  though  I  dare  not  trust 
myself  to  expatiate  upon  it,  is  of  a  nature  that  has 
been  yet  more  pernicious  to  me,  and  may  be  one  of 
those,  which,  in  its  consequences,  I  shall  have  cause 
to  rue  whilst  I  exist  !'* 

"  I  do  not  perfectly  understand  you.  Sir,"  said 
Mrs.  Denbigh  ;  "  what  error  relating  to  yourself  do 
you  allude  to  ?  Is  it  possible  that  bis  suspicions  con- 
cerning Mrs.  Hertford.'* 

She  hesitated  ;  but  Somerset,  easily  comprehending 
her  meaning,  exclaimed — 

"Ah,  Madam  !  have  you  also  given  them  admit- 
tance i*  Have  my  true  feelings  htcn  so  little  known  to 
you  that  they  remain  yet  to  be  explained  ?  Mrs. 
Hertford,**  added  he,  "  has  been  to  me  no  more  than 
P  2 


174 

a  friend  from  the  first  hour  I  saw  her  :  I  thought  her 
worthy  ;  I  believed  her  amiable  and  sincere  ;  she 
wrung  from  me  the  real  secret  of  my  heart,  and  her 
dissembled  pity,  her  artificial  softness,  soothed  and 
flattered  me.  Whatever  the  sentiments  were  she 
sought  to  persuade  me  I  had  excited  in  her  breast, 
she  well  knew  my  power  of  returning  was  passed. 
Still,  however,  her  gentleness,  her  apparent  interest 
in  my  happiness  continued :  she  made  herself  a  sort 
of  barrier  between  me  and  misery ;  and  the  seeming 
generosity  with  which  at  the  same  time  that  she  was 
hourly  insinuating  to  me  her  own  partiality,  she  ex- 
tolled and  applauded  her  lovely  precursor,  deceived 
me  so  egregiously,  that  I  firmly  supposed  her  one  of 
the  best,  as  she  appeared  one  of  the  most  candid  of 
human  beings." 

"  And  what  late  reason  have  you  had,"  said  Mrs. 
Denbigh,  "  to  change  your  opinion  ?" 

"  Re^-son  too   incontrovertible,"  replied  he,  "  to 
be   disputed.     Subtle  and  designing  as  she  is,  and 
guarded  as    in   all  her  measures  she   has  generally 
been,  she  was  not,  however,  quite  exempted  from  the 
vanity  and  weakness  which  often  leads  politicians  to 
commit  indiscretions  ;   she  made  herself  a  confidant; 
and  less  from  openness  of  heart  than  from  the  desire 
of  obtaining  admiration  and  praise  for  her  ingenuity, 
revealed  all  her  secret  machinations  to  a  female  friend 
who  has  betrayed    her.     From  that  friend,  a  Mrs. 
Castleton,  who  she  has  unwarily,  but  deeply  offend- 
ed, I  received,  the  day  before  I  left  Delmington,  a 
packet  of  letters,  including  one  from  herself,  which 
contains  an  abstract  of   Mrs.  Hertford's  life,  and  a 
number  of  others,  written  to  her  by  that  very  lady, 
within  these  last  three  months.     The  first  of  these 
sufficiently  told  me  what  was  the  nature  of  the  others, 
I  read  therefore  only  one  of  them,  and  turned  from 
the  rest  with  disgust  and  horror.     Good  God  !  what 
.1  train  of  artifice  and  deception  did  it  reveal  to  me  ! 


175 

I  could  not,  but  that  I  saw  and  knew  the  hand  to  be 
that  of  the  unprincipled  projector— I  could  not  have 
bclitved  that  such  determined  hypocrisy,  such  un- 
feeling selfishness,  existed  upon  earth!  To  have  been 
made  the  dupe  myself  of  her  insincerity,  I  am  vam 
enough  to  think,'  argues  nothing  to  my  disparage- 
ment:  sorrv  should  I  be  ever  to  find  myself  a  match 
for  such  consummate  duplicity.  There  were  passages 
however  in  the  letter,  that  made  my  blood  boil  with 
indignation  !  They  discovered   to   me   that  she  had 
not  only  deceived  Miss  Delmington  in  regard  to  my 
sentiments,  (a  circumstance  which,  unimportant  as 
it  may  be  to  her,  vet  to  me  is  deeply  mortifying)  but 
that  pains  had  alsi  been  taken  to  infuse  into  her  mmd 
a  belief,  that  I  was  coxcomb  enough  to  credit  the  pre- 
tended insinuations  Mrs.  Hertford  had  given  me  ot 
her  attachment.     In  the  first  place,  such  insinuations 
never  escaped  her ;  and  in  the  next.  Miss  Delming- 
ton may  be  assured,  if  they  had,  I  am  not  o.  a  dis- 
position so  lightly  to  imbibe  conceit,  or  so  easily  to 
admit  presumption." 

Mrs.  Denbigh,  at  the  conclusion  of  this  speech, 
lifting  up  her  hands  and  eyes  with  consternation  and 
amazement,  exclaimed,  ''  Is  it  possible !  Good  Hea- 
ven !  Is  it  possible  that  in  so  young  a  mind  such  per- 
fidy and  deceit  should  be  lodged  !  Your  account,  Mr. 
Somerset,  makes  me  tremble,  and  rejoiced  as  I  am 
at  our  general  escape  from  so  worthless  a  woman,  I 
am  yet  shocked  to  be  obliged  to  believe  a  character 
like'her's  exists  !"  i        u    i  • 

Then  pausing  a  moment,  she  presently  added  in  a 
lower  voice,  speaking  to  herself—"  My  poor  Claren- 
tine  !  How  could  I  be  cruel  enough  to  blame  your 
virtuous  indignation,  to  discredit  your  too  just  sus- 
picions !" 

Somerset,  who  had  caught  the  name  of  Clarentme, 
and  involuntarily  listened  to  what  followed,  now  said, 


176 

"  Dear  Mrs.  Denbigh,  what  suspicions  do  you  mean? 
Why  do  you  speak  in  a  voice  of  such  concern  ?" 

Mrs.  Denbigh  had  no  time  to  answer  him,  for 
just  then  the  servants  entered  with  dinner. 

Litlle  was  said  whilst  they  were  at  table.  Somer- 
set's heart,  and  Mrs.  Denbigh's  mind,  were  too  full 
to  allow  them  to  converse  upon  indifferent  subjects, 
ana  whilst  the  attendants  were  in  the  room,  it  was 
impossible  to  pursue  that  which  had  before  engross- 
ed them. 

''  When  once  more,  however,  they  were  alone — 
"  I  will  not"  said  Mrs.  Denbigh,  *'  so  far  betray  my 
trust,  Captain  Somerset,  as  to  impartto  youthezvhoie 
of  what  I  know  ;  but  this,  for  your  present  satisfac- 
tion, I  have  no  scruple  in  telling  you,  Clarentine's  opi- 
nion of  Mrs.  Hertford  has  long  been  such,  that  after 
the  first  moment,  she  never  gave  credit  to  the  pre- 
sumption, if  you  are  pleased  to  call  it  so,  which  that 
lady  sought  to  impute  to  you.  She  esteems  you  too 
sincerely  to  believe  any  thing  to  your  prejudice  ;  and, 
I  am  certain,  has  no  desire  so  earnest  as  to  retain 
your  good  opinion,  and  prove  to  you  her  own.  I 
must  insist  upon  it,  however,  that  you  do  not,  at  this 
time,  either  attempt  to  speak  with  her  alone,  or  to 
converse  with  her  upon  any  but  general  topics  :  her 
mind  is  not  in  a  state  to  bear  immediate  scrutiny  ;  it 
has  for  a  considerable  poriod  been  so  cruelly  haras- 
sed, that  it  may  trulv  be  said  to  have  been  thorough- 
ly unhinged.  The  intelliocnce  I  have  to  give  her, 
however,  you  may  rest  sssurtd,  will  afford  her  plea- 
sure, in  proportion  to  the  just  aversion  she  has  long 
had  for  Mrs.  Hertford,  and  the  cordial  regard  she  ac- 
knowledges for  you." 

Somerset,  revived  and  enchanted  by  this  friendly 
speech,  promised  implicit  submission  to  the  two  in- 
junctions it  contained  ;  and  forbc^aring  to  extend  his 
enquiries,  eager  and, impatient  as  he  was  to  know  the 


177 

whole  that  had  been  alluded  to,  suffered  M»s.  Den- 
bigh to  leave  him  and  go  up  to  her  young  friend. 


CHAPTER  XXIII. 

"  WELL,  my  dear  Clarentine,"  cried  Mrs.  Den- 
bigh, in  a  tone  of  cheerfulness,  as  she  opened  the  door, 
"  our  explanation  is  over,  and  your  Somerset,  your 
friend,  is  honourably  acquitted." 

"  Dear  Madam,"  cried  Clarentine,  her  cheeks 
tinged  with  a  vivid  glow — "  explain  yourself,  I  in- 
treat !" 

'^  I  will ;  but  you  must  promise  me  first  to  behave 
reasonably  during  the  rest  of  the  day  ;  to  meet  him 
with  good  humour,  and  to  answer  him,  when  next 
he  speaks  to  you." 

"  Ah  Madam,  do  you  think,  if  I  hear  of  him  as 
favourable  an  account  as  you  teach  me  to  expect,  I 
shall  require  such  an  exhortation  ?" 

*'  Why  I  don't  know  ;  you  may  expect  more,  per- 
haps, than  I  have  power  to  tell,  or — " 

Here  Clarentine  interrupted  her,  and  too  im.patient 
for  longer  delay,  besought  her  most  earnestly  to  be^ 
gin  her  relation. 

Mrs.  Denbigh,  though  always  composed  and  tran- 
quil herself,  could  yet  make  allowances  for  an  im- 
petuosity so  natural  at  such  a  moment,  and  too  kind 
to  lengthen  her  suspense,  entered  upon  the  promised 
vindication  immediately. 

The  predominant  sensation  with  which  Clarentine 
listened  to  a  confirmation  so  undeniable  of  the  self- 
ishness and  dissimulation  she  had  long  suspected, 
was  horror  mixed  with  thankfulness  for  the  provi- 


178 

dentiat  deliverance  of  a  man  so  ill  formed  to  cope 
uiih  such  artificial  double-dealing.  Too  generous, 
however,  to  exult  over  a  falltrn  enemy,  to  accumulate 
the  measure  of  her  errors  by  illiberal  animadver- 
sions,  or  to  add  invective  to  contempt,  she  heard  the 
uhole  account,  though  not  in  astonished,  yet  in  de- 
ternimed  silence,  and  when  it  concluded,  permitted 
not  herself  to  utter  a  single  comment  upon  any  part 

Much,  however,  remained  for  her  still  to  learn; 
Mrs.  Denbigh  had  hitherto  confined  herself  wholly 
to  the  subject  of  Mrs.  Hertford;  she  now  spoke  to 
her  of  Somerset  himself— of  his  avowed  affection— 
his  modest  apprehensions,  and  the  consi<lerate  deli- 
cacy  with  which  he  had  abstained  from  enlarging  on 
the  Memoirs  Mrs.  Casdeton  had  sent  him,  and  from 
particularising  any  peculiar  instance  of  treachery  re- 
lating to  himself  in  the  detestable  correspondence 
that  had  been  remitted  to  him." 

"  We  may  well  suppose,  however,"  added  she, 
"what  were  the  designs  that  correspondence  dis- 
closed, by  the  determined  antipathy  against  Mrs. 
Hertford  with  which  it  seems  to  have  inspired  him. 
I  doubt  not  but  that  it  discovered  to  him,  in  their 
tullest  extent,  the  mercenary  views  that  seem  to  have 
actuated  her ;  nor  do  I  doubt  at  the  same  time,  but 
that  every  page  was  fraught  with  triuiiiphant  antici- 
pations of  certain  success.  It  is  plain  she  never  loved 
hun  ;  no  woman  truly  attached  writes  of  a  lover  to  a 
friend  in  a  style  it  would  be  prejudicial  to  her  he 
should  see  ;  even  when  stratagems  are  employed  to 
win  that  lover,  if  they  are  resorted  to  merely  from 
motives  of  tenderness,  a  man  forgives  the  effect  in 
the  cause,  and  though  he  slights  the  mistress,  is  flat- 
tered by  the  fondness.  Not  such  is  here  the  case  : 
cold-blooded,  heartless  policy  seems  to  have  been 
her  only  guide  ;  and  without  one  of  the  excuses  that 


179 

might  be  found  for  a  woman  of  ardent  imagination 
and  strong  passions,  she  has  run,  I  begin  to  think, 
into  all  the  intrigue  that  usually  proceeds  from  jea- 
lousy and  apprehension.  I  shall  beg,  however,  to 
see  the  correspondence,  since,  shrewdly  as  I  have 
descanted  upon  its  supposed  tenour,  I  must  acknow- 
ledge myself  to  be  by  no  means  sufficiently  aufait  in 
all  these  intricacies  of  deception,  to  have  yet  acquired 
any  distinct  idea  of  her  plans  or  her  motives." 

"  Dearest  Mrs.  Denbigh,"  cried  Clarentine,  "  why 
should  you  wish  to  sully  your  mind  by  an  inspection 
so  uninteresting  and  really  so  horrid  ?  As  for  me,  I 
am  perfectly  content  to  know  there  are  such  beings 
as  coquettes  in  the  world,  without  wishing  to  dive  so 
deep  into  their  hearts.  Mrs.  Hertford  is  detected,  is 
betrayed ;  ah,  then,  let  her  faults  rest  in  peace  !" 

*■'  iVIy  dear  child,  this  is  all  very  -svell  for  you  to 
say,  and  you  to  think — but  let  me,  I  intreat,  derive 
what  amusement  I  can  from  a  detail  so  new,  and  I 
doubt  not  so  instructive.  I  have  no  apprehension  of 
being  turned  into  a  coquette^  and  as  I  never  read 
Machiavel  in  my  youth,  am  determined  to  study  his 
modem  archetype  in  my  old  age.  I  dare  say  I  shall 
find  it  an  exceeding  entertaining  pastime  in  a  post 
chaise  ;  and  I  am  persuaded  Mr.  Somerset  will  most 
readily  resign  the  whole  budget,  for  he  seems  to  have 
as  great  a  horror  of  it  as  yourself." 

Then  rising  up — "  Here  comes  the  chaise,"  added 
]Mrs.  Denbigh,  "  1  have  no  time  to  lose  therefore  in 
iipplying  for  these  same  letters.  Will  you  go  down 
with  me,  or  wait  here  till  I  send  you  word  we  are 
ready  to  set  out  ?" 

*'  I  will  wait  here,  if  you  please,  Madam." 
Mrs.  Denbigh,  upon  this,  immediately  left  her,  and 
returning  to  the  parlour — "  iVlr.   Somerset,"    cried 
she,  "  have  you  got  Mrs.  Hertford's  system  of  poli- 
tics with  vou  ?" 


180 

Somerset  smiled,  and  answered  he  had. 

"  And  may  I  ask  to  see  it  r" 

"  Most  assuredly,"  and  ringing  the  bell,  he  deli- 
vered to  his  servant  a  key,  and  directed  him  where 
to  find  the  whole  packet. 

"  Well,"  said  Mrs.  Denbigh,  as  she  received  it 
— "you  may  expect,  after  such  a  perusal,  to  find  in 
me  some  very  extraordinary  improvement.  The  opa- 
city of  my  intellects  (as  Mr.  Lea  would  say)  wanted 
a  little  subtilisation,  for  I  n^ver  could  invent  an  in- 
genious plot  in  my  life  :  this  I  hope  will  enable  me 
to  set  up  for  a  contriver  through  life.  As  for  Cla- 
rentine,  poor  simple  soul !  she  protests  against  read- 
ing a  single  line  of  it ;  should  I,  notwithstanding, 
meet  with  any  very  valuable  instructions,  any  parti- 
cular good  recipe  for  making  a  female  deceiver,  I 
shall  certainly  communicate  it  to  her  directly." 

"  You  are  really  too  kind  to  her  !"  cried  Somerset, 
laughing  ;  "  I  have  no  apprehension,  however,  of  her 
profiting  by  such  lessons." 

Mrs.  Denbigh  now  moved  towards  the  door  to  de- 
part, and  Clarentine,  hastening  down  upon  the  first 
summons,  was  detained  by  Somerset  a  moment  at 
the  door  to  enquire  after  her  health,  and  then  hand- 
ed into  the  chaise,  which  immediately  drove  away. 

Mrs.  Denbigh,  affecting  more  eagerness  than  she 
really  felt,  opened  the-  packet  as  soon  as  she  was 
seated,  and  began  reading  immediately  ;  whilst  Cla- 
rentine had  recourse  to  a  book  she  had  the  day  be- 
fore put  into  one  of  the  chaise  pockets. 

The  first  among  these  curious  manuscripts  which 
Mrs.  Denbigh  chose  to  select,  was  Mrs.  Castleton's 
own  ktter.  The  early  part  of  it,  containing  the  bit- 
terest general  accusations  against  her  y;-z>/2^,  she  read 
very  quietly  j  but  when  she  came  to  particulars — such 
as  the  story  of  young  Godfrey's  disappointment,  and 
the  subsequent  elopement  with  EUham,  she  could 


181 

contain  herself  no  longer. "Merciful  powers!'' 

exclaimed  she,  with  a  mixture  in  her  countenance  of 
risibility  and  dismay,  "  Eltham  might  well  despise 
this  unhappy  woman  :  might  well  caution  you  against 
her!  why  she  jilted  another  man  first,  and  then  ran 
away  with  him  to  Scotland  before  he  was  nineteen  I" 

Clarentine,  less  surprised  then  shocked,  said,  "  It 
had  been  well  for  Mrs.  Hertford,  if,  in  this  treacher- 
ous and  ahoTnimhlQ  friend,  she  had  met  with  a  mind 
as  honourable  as  Mr.  Eltham's  :  I  am  persuaded  he 
would  never  have  revealed  this  anecdote." 

Mrs.  Denbigh  went  on  reading,  and  Clarentine  a- 
gain  opened  her  book. 

The  journal  of  Mrs.  Hertford's  foreign  adventures, 
as  well  in  Switzerland  as  in  Italy,  she  had  no  pa- 
tience to  get  through,  nor  did  it  appear  that  Somerset 
himself  had;  for  one  of  the  last  sheets  having  acci- 
dentally been  touched  by  the  hot  sealing  wax,  had 
adhered  together,  and  remained  unopened. 

Turning  next  to  Mrs.  Hertford's  correspondence, 
one  of  the  first  paragraphs  she  met  with  was  the  fol~ 
lowing. 

"  Eltham,  as  I  had  reason  to  believe,  is  finally  dis- 
missed. I  was  sorry,  as  no  other  rival  to  the  g-uar- 
dian  appeared,  to  part  with  him ;  but  he  v,^as  a  con- 
stant basilisk  to  my  sight :  I  loathe  and  justly  dread 
him  more  than  any  man  upon  earth.  My  feelings 
with  regard  to  Somerset  are  those  of  indifference : 
with  regard  to  him  they  amount  to  abhorrence." 

"  So  then,"  cried  Mrs.  Denbigh,  interrupting  her- 
self, "  poor  Eltham  was  sacrificed  to  this  detestable 
woman  !  She  seems  to  have  held  you  by  a  wire,  and 
to  have  guided  you  all,  at  her  own  pleasure,  like  so 
many  puppets  !" 

Then  resuming  her  lecture,  she  thus  went  on. 

"  Whether  Clarentine  is  vain  or  not,  I  am  unequal 
to  deciding;  but  that  she  is /?r(?Wfl?  a  thousand  instan- 
•    Vol.  II.  Q 


ces  have  tended  to  prove.  Upon  that  pride  I  have 
worked;  and  hy  teaching  her  to  think  Somerset  pre- 
fers me,  yet  at  my  soUcttatio?!  (that  was  not  the  exact 
word  I  used,  though)  would  renounce  his  own  at- 
tachment to  restore  happiness  to  her,  I  have  raised 
such  a  storm  of  indignation  in  her  mind,  that,  after 
a  very  critical  conversation,  she  ended  by  telling  me, 
Somerset  was  become  to  her  an  object  of  horror  !  I 
truly  believe  it ;  and  truly  believe  also,  they  are  now 
divided  for  life  !  If  he  addresses  her  hereafter  with 
unusual  softness,  she  will  attribute  it  to  compassion  ; 
should  he  accidentally  neglect  her,  she  will  impute 
it  to  contempt ;  when  gay,  she  w^ill  believe  he  is  tri- 
umphant; when  serious,  she  will  conclude  he  is  per- 
plexed. In  no  one  situation  of  mind  can  she  now 
ever  behold  him  with  ease  or  confidence." 

Here  Mrs.  Denbigh,  angrily  replacing  the  letter 
in  its  cover,  exclaimed,  "  I  can  go  no  further  !  This 
is  less  a  -woman  than  -^Jitndl  No  doubt  what  I  have 
now  been  reading  is  the  part  Mr.  Somerset  so  in- 
dignantly declared  his  blood  boiled  at — is  the  part 
that  led  him  so  fearfully  to  apprehend  you  suspected 
him  of  vanity  and  presumption  ! — Good  God  !  how 
has  she  deceived  me  from  the  first  moment  I  knew 
her!  So  thoughtless  and  undesigning  in  appear- 
ance, so  mischievous  and  unprincipled  in  nature! — 
'Tis  strange— 'tis  wondrous  strange  !" 

Clarentinc  to  all  this  was  utterly  silent ;  to  have  at- 
tempted any  defence  of  Mrs.  Hertford  would  have 
been  preposterous — to  aggravate  her  errors  would 
have  been  unmerciful :  she  •  therefore  sat  a  neutral 
auditor  of  Mrs.  Denbigh's  exclamations,  and  felt  re- 
lieved, when,  sickened  of  the  subject,  she,  at  lengthy 
voluntarily  changed  it. 

Late  in  the  evening  the  travellers  arrived  safely 
at  llampstead,  and  proceeded  immediately  to  the 
house  of  Mr.  Lenham. 

That  gentleman's  reception  of  them  was  cordial 


183 

and  cheerful ;  Mrs.  Barclay's,  in  her  way,  was  friend- 
ly ;  and  her  daughter's,  as  usual,  blunt  and  indifferent. 

After  the  customary  compliments  and  congratu- 
lations were  over,  Clarentine,  who  dreaded  herself, 
to  ask  any  questions  relative  to  Mrs.  Hertford,  was 
by  no  means  sorry,  however,  to  hear  Mrs.  Denbigh 
enquire  of  Mr.  Lenham  where  she  was. 

"  At  her  uncle's  house  in  town,"-  replied  he. 

"  She  is  going  to  Bath  soon,"  cried  Miss  Barclay. 

"  To  Bath  r" 

"  Yes  ;  she  complains  of  her  health,  and  says  the 
waters  have  been  prescribed  to  her." 

"  Lethean  waters  they  should  be,"  said  Mrs.  Den- 
bigh, in  a  low  voice  to  Clarentine. 

"  I  suspect,"  returned  Clarentine,  smiling,  "  she 
would  be  perfectly  content  to  resign  those  to  z;^." 

The  change  since  the  morning,  which  Somerset 
now  observed  in  the  behaviour  of  Clarentine  ;  the  re- 
turning sweetness  with  which  she  treated  him  ;  the 
timid  sensibility  that  unconsciously  betrayed  itself 
in  her  fine  eyes  whenever  they  met  his,  and  the  con- 
ciliating gentleness  of  her  voice  as  often  as  she  venv 
tured  to  address  him,  filled  him  at  once  with  hopes 
so  flattering,  and  gratitude  so  unbounded,  that,  all 
animation  and  vivacity,  he  conversed  with  a  gaiety 
and  spirit  which  infused  cheerfulness  into  the  whole 
party,  and  made  the  evening  appear  to  Clarentine 
one  of  the  happiest,  though  one  of  the  shortest,  she 
had  ever  known.  ^ 

When  Mrs  Denbigh  arose  to  depart,  and  had  ta- 
ken leave  of  the  rest  of  the  company,  approaching 
Clarentine,  whose  thanks  for  her  late  kindness  were 
as  warm  as  they  were  sincere,  she  took  her  hand, 
and  pressing  it  affectionately  between  her  own,  said, 
"  Do  not  talk  to  me  of  thanks,  dearest  girl,  but  of 
courage  to  support  your  loss  :  I  know  not  how  to 
part  from  you,  for  to  me  you  have  proved  a  compa- 


184 

nion  so  invaluable  and  so  attaching,  I  dread  the 
frightful  solitude  to  which  I  am  now  returning. 

Clarentine,  equally  gratified  and  affected  by  this 
speech,  promised  with  the  utmost  alacrity,  since  they 
still  resided  so  near,  although  they  were  no  longer 
under  the  same  roof,  to  make  her  visits  frequent  and 
long,  and  to  spend  as  much  of  her  time  with  her  as 
she  wished. 

She  then  attended  her  to  the  door,  w^hither  they 
were  accompanied  by  Somerset,  who  was  to  escort 
Mrs.  Denbigh  home,  and  who,  as  she  descended  the 
steps,  held  out  his  hand  to  Clarentine,  and  said  v/ith 
a  half  smile,  "  Will  you  not,  my  sweet  friend,  be- 
stow one  word  of  consolation  at  parting  upon  your 
second  fellow  traveller  ?" 

"  No,"  replied  she,  cheerfully,  "for  if  he  finds  the 
separation  very  irksome,  he  need  not  doubt  the  plea- 
sure we  shall  all  have  in  seeing  him  as  often  as  he 
can  come  to  us."  So  saying,  she  gave  him  her  hand, 
which,  with  blessings  and  thanks,  he  pressed  to  his 
lips,  aud  then  flew  after  Mrs.  Denbigh. 

The  pleasure  with  which  Clarentine  .now  revisited 
her  former  apartment,  and  again  beheld  so  many  ob- 
jects that  reminded  her  of  the  happy  time  when  So- 
merset and  she  (upon  the  same  friendly  terms  to 
which  they  appeared  to  be  returning)  seemed  to  have 
no  wish  so  earnest  as  that  of  mutually  serving  and 
pleasing  each  other,  was  lively  and  unrestrained. 
Every  doubt  of  his  sincerity  removed  ;  convinced  al- 
most to  a  certainty  of  his  love,  and  assured  she  had 
nothing  more  to  apprehend  from  her  insidious  rival, 
she  surveyed  all  the  different  testimonies  of  his  faith- 
ful affection  with  the  same  grateful  exultation  she 
had  first  accepted  them  :  and,  at  lerigth,  retired  to  bed 
in  a  state  of  contentment  arising  nearly  to  felicity. 


185 


CHAPTER  XXIV. 

CLARENTINE  had  been  settled  once  more  at 
her  venerable  guardian's  near  a  fortnight,  when,  soon 
after  breakfast  one  morning,  as  she  was  sitting  alone 
in  her  own  room,  another  letter  was  brought  to  her 
from  Sophia. 

MISS  DELMINGTON. 

Dclmington-House,  February. 

'*  I  have  strange  things  to  tell  you,  dearest  Cla- 
rentine — so  strange,  that  half  doubting  the  possibi- 
lity of  their  being  real  myself^  I  am  almost  afraid  ijou 
will  doubt  it  entirely.  One  moment,  eager  to  come 
to  the  point,  the  next,  frightened  and  ashamed,  I 
know  not  how  in  the  world  to  begin.,  and  as  for  fi- 
nkshing.^  really  believe  I  must  leave  that  to  the  un- 
moved and  tranquil  Harriet.  Dear,  she  does  stroll 
about  the  house  with  an  air  so  provokingly  calm  and 
at  her  ease,  I  could  almost  beat  her  !  Why*is  not 
every  body  as  distracted  and  restless  as  I  am?  My 
mother's  kind  and  anxious  face  is  the  only  one  in 
the  family  I  can  look  at  with  any  patience  :  dear  Ed- 
gar is  not  here,  or  else  he  would,  perhaps,  sympa- 
thise in  my  perturbations  ;  at  least,  I  am  sure  he 
would  not  appear  so  indifferent.  I  cannot  bear  in- 
difference just  now — if  I  dared  I  would  rather /?z;ic/i 
people  than  suffer  them  to  retain  the  slightest  symp- 
toms of  it ! 

"  Must  I  not  now,  however,  endeavour  to  begin 
my  story  I  You  will  otherwise  pinch  me  when  we 
meet,  I  suppose.  Well,  then,  take  the  following 
strange  (there  is  no  other  term  for  it)  relation. 

"  We  have  lived  here,  as  well  since  the  departure 
of  Mr.  Somerset  as  before  his  arrival,  in  extreme 
good  humour  with  each  other,  visiting  or  visited 
Q2 


every  day,  dancing  or  playing  every  evening,  and — 
bref—m  high  spirits  and  perfect  amity. 

"  On  a  sudden,  however,  lo  and  behold !  a  few 
days  ago,  while  with  £mma,  I  was  sitting  thrum' 
7ning'   upon  our  old  harpsichord  in  the  parlour,  the 

door  opened,  and  in  walked you  shall  guess  who 

when  you  hear  the  rest. 

"  How  d'ye-does  and  very  wells,  and  thank-yes, 
and  speeches  over  on  both  sides,  I  quitted  my  seat, 
and  taking  my  work,  placed  myself  at  the  window, 
and  tried  to  start  one  of  the  usual  conversations  con- 
cerning sunshine  and  rain,  wind  and  calm  ;  for  to 
speak  the  truth,  my  companion's  looks  and  counte- 
nance perplexed  me  a  little,  and  taught  me,  though 
I  scarce  knew  why,  to  apprehend  something  extra- 
ordinary was  coming  :  these  amusing  topics,  how- 
ever, had  no  effect  upon  him,  and  every  five  mi- 
nutes there  ensued  a  profound  and  embarrassing 
pause. 

"  Mercy,  thought  I,  this  whimsical  wretch  is 
always  alarming  me  !     What  am  I  to  expect  now  ?" 

"  He  kept  me  not  long  in  suspense — but  in  a  short 
time,  despatching  poor  Emma  upon  some  bootless 
errand,  (I  wonder  what  right  people  have  to  take 
such  liberties  with  my  sister !)  approached  me  as  I 
still  pretended  to  be  immensely  busy,  and  seating 
himself  at  my  side,  would  have  taken  my  hand  :  I 
drew  it  back  ;  and  though  I  did  not  speak,  looked,  I 
believe  a  little  dismayed,  for  presently  he  cried  '  why 
is  my  lovely  friend  thus  silent  and  thus  frigid  ?  She 
takes  from  me  all  courage  to  begin  the  subject  upon 
which  I  canie  purposely  to  address  her  :  dearest  So- 
phia,' added  he,  (my  unfortunate  little  round  face 
teaches  every  body  to  be  familiar  with  me)  '  speak  to 
me — tell  me  I  may  open  to  you  my  heart,  and 
that  you  will  deign  to  hear  its  secrets  with  indul- 
gence I' 

'  What,  more  secrets  V  cried  I,  endeavouring  to 


187  ^ 

lully,    I    thought  I  had    penetrated  all  yours  lohg 
ago.'  . 

'  O,  no,*  cried  he  again,  and  almost  forcibly  snatch- 
ing my  hand,  *  you  know  not  yet  what  a  capacious 
heart  it  is — how  many  secrets  it  can  contain,  nor  how 
nearly  its  present  feelings  relate  to  yourself.* 

''  I  looked  up,  I  looked  down,  I  coloured,  I  turn- 
ed pale  ;  in  short,  I  was  so  conscious  of  having  the 
direct  appearance  of  what  at  that  moment  I  certainly 
was — a  fool — that  unable  to  keep  my  seat,  knowing 
that  the  man's  piercing  eyes  were  fixed  upon  my 
face  the  whole  time,  I  hastily  arose  and  made  an  at- 
tempt to  run  out  of  the  room  :  it  was  but  an  attempt, 
however,  for  instantly  pursuing  me,  he  once  more 
caught  my  hand  as  I  was  opening  the  door,  and  ne- 
ver parted  with  me  till  not  only  his  own,  but  7ny  poor 
secret  was  revealed  also. 

"  Can  you  conjecture  what  this  double  mystery 
was,  Clarentine  ?  No,  you  say.  Why  then,  fancy 
you  see  us  both  seated  again  at  that  memorable  win- 
dow ;  I  still  looking  silly — he  saucy,  and  I  am  afraid 
a  little  secure — and  attend  to  the  sequel. 

"  One  of  the  first  things  he  asked  me,  and  almost 
in  as  plain  terms  as  I  now  repeat  it,  was — '  Can  you 
love  me,  dearest  Sophia  V 

''  I  did  not  answer  like  poor  Kate — '  I  cannot  tell  ;* 
but  my  look  of  indecision,  and  his  own  straight  for- 
ward enquiry,  I  fancy  reminded  him  of  that  scene, 
for  he  presently  added  with  a  smile — '-If  thou  canst 
love  rne^  take  me :  if  not^  to  say  to  thee — that  I  shall 
die^  ^tis  true — but  for  thy  love^  by  the  Lord^  no  ;  and 
yet  I  love  thee  tooJ* — Ay,  dear  Sophia,  more  than, 
after  my  late  disappointment,  I  believe  it  possible 
I  ever  could  love  again.  Your's  is  the  exact  cha- 
racter I  ought  to  form  a  connexion  with :  I  know 
you  to  be  amiable,  I  have  experienced  thafc^ou  can 
be  generous,  and  to  all  those  with  whom  you  are  al- 
lied by  the  ties  of  nature,  I  see  that  you  can  be  af»« 


188 

fectionate.  I  will  not,  however,  deceive  you,  So- 
phia ;  I  will  not  tell  you  that  I  feel  for  you  that  ex- 
travagant and  impetuous  passion  I  felt  for  your  fas- 
cinating cousin  ;  but  I  admire  the  excellence  of  your 
understanding,  I  delight  in  the  gaiety  of  your  con- 
versation, I  love  the  goodness  and  sincerity  of  your 
disposition,  and  the  graces  of  your  animated  and  en- 
chanting little  countenance  have  half  turned  my  head! 
•^— I  cannot  be  happy  zvithout  you,  and  with  you,  I 
niay  not  only  be  happy  inyself^  but  prove  the  means 

of   rendering   you   so    likewise. -Be  mine,    then, 

dearest  Sophia  !  complete  your  work,  and  as  you  be- 
gan, so  establish  my  recovery.' 

"There  were  things  in  this  speech,  you  will  allow, 
that  could  not  be  very  flattering  to  my  vanity,  but  in 
favour  of  its  openness  and  manly  honesty  I  forgave 
all  the  rest.  I  shall  not  tell  you,  however,  whether  I 
sent  him  away  to  hang  Iivnself^  or  whether  I  at  length 
granted  the  permission  he  so  earnestly  solicited,  of 
being  allowed  to  apply  to  my  mother :  such  secrets 
never  should  be  told  ;  but  this,  (and  I  write  it  with 
almost  as  much  incredulous  amazement  as  you  will 
read  it)  this  I  must  tell  you — the  momentous  yes, 
that  is  to  decide  our  future  destiny,  we  are  mutually 
to  utter — on  Tuesday  se^n-night  ! — Heugh  !  the  very 
idea  takes  av/ay  my  breath  ! 

"  O,  dearest  Clarentine,  thoughtless  and  inconsi- 
derate as  we  both  are  now  that  we  are  upon  the  edge 
of  the  precipice,  I  tremble  to  think  of  ail  the  absur- 
dities and  follies  we  may  both  commit ! — My  mother 
tells  me  he  is  bent  upon  carrying  me  to  London  this 
verv  spring  :  I  wished — you  know  how  eagerly — to 
go  with  lady  Julia  ;  but  dread  nothing  so  much  as 
entering  upon  a  scene  so  new,  with  a  companion, 
v/ho,  greatly  as  I  shall  love,  it  is  impossible,  how- 
ever, I  can  look  up  to  with  the  deference  1  should 
to  a  more  experienced  guide.  The  indulgence  which 
the  sweetness  of  his  temper  promises  me,  I  almost 


189 

fear,  and  the  means  of  dissipation  which  will  be  of- 
fered me,  I  start  at,  from  the  terror  of  abusing.  I 
have  not  your  moderation,  dear  Clarentine,  nor  half 
your  native  love  of  tranquillity.  I  shall  become  an 
odious  little  fluttering  coquette  during  my  youth, 
and  degenerate  at  last  into  a  gossiping  old  card-play- 
er— no,  I  shall  not  though,  now  I  think  of  it,  for  I 
hate  cards  :  ay,  but  perhaps  your  abominable  London 
may  teach  me  to  like  them  ;  are  ijou  become  a  gam- 
bler yet  t 


"  Give  me  joy,  my  own  Clarentine,  give  me  joy, 
if  you  love  me  ! — It  has  just  been  determined,  that 
instead  of  going  to  London  to  figure  away  in  all  the 
new-fangled  frippery  of  an  upstart  fine  lady,  in  a 
house  of  her  own^  and  a  coach  of  her  ozvn,  and  all  the 
etceteras  that  would  infallibly  have  turned  my  giddy 
brain,  I  am  this  year,  while  we  are  in  town,  to  re- 
side with  a  relation  of  his,  a  Mrs.  Germaine,  who  is 
to  hold  my  leading-strings^  and  preserve  me  (if  she 
can)  from  exposing  myself !  I  am  enchanted  at  this 
plan,  for  now  I  can  answer  for  one  half  of  my  con- 
duct, if  somebody  else  will  have  the  goodness  to  an- 
swer for  the  other  half;  to  support  the  whole  burden 
myself  would  have  been  too  much. 

"  I  feel  so  easy  and  so  light  since  this  scheme  has 
been  agreed  upon,  that  I  am  convinced  my  presenti' 
vients  were  ominous  !  I  should  certainly  have  run 
wild,  got  into  debt,  caused  half  a  dozen  duels,  and 
ended  by  being  sent  home  in  disgrace  ! 

"  My  dearest  mother,  in  conjunction  with  Lord 
Welwyn,  procured  for  me  this  happy  release  from 
myself!  What  sort  of  a  person  Mrs.  Germaine  is, 
whether  young  or  old,  I  do  not  know  ;  all  I  have  to 
hope  is,  that  she  will  hold  the  reins  tolerably  tight, 
and  keep  us  both  in  good  order.  Would  my  mother 
could  accompany  me ;  or,  at  least,  that  we   could 


190 

have  succeeded  in  delaying  this  formidable  ceremony 
till  I  had  it  in  my  power  to  congratulate  myself  on 
feeling  a  little  wiser ;  both  the  one  and  the  other, 
however,  are  impossible  :  she  cannot,  at  present,  quit 
pelmington,  and  he  protests,  that  if  he  allowed  me 
time  to  become  one  atom  more  prudent  or  more  cir- 
cumspect, he  should  grov%'  afraid  of  me  ! 

^  #  #  # 

"  O  this  Mrs.  Germaine,  I  dare  say,  is  a  good  sort 
of  a  woman  after  all.  Lady  Julia  has  just  been  here, 
and  tells  me  she  is  to  be  presented  by  her,  and  to  go 
every  where  with  her  whilst  she  is  in  London.  Dear, 
how  people  can  be  so  immensely  obliging  and  conve- 
nient as  to  take  charge  of  all  the  unruly  rustics  that 
offer  themselves  to  their  care  !  It  must  often  be  hea- 
vy work  ;  with  me,  perhaps,  she  will  find  it  too  light 
work.  It  will  be  very  shocking  if  I  should — but  it  is 
a  thousand  to  one  if  I  do  not  some  times  break  out 
of  bounds  :  I  know  that  I  shall  have  such  an  encou- 
raging example  in  my  companion,  that  nothing  less 
than  a  miracle  can  withhold  me  from  following  it. 

"  You  see,  Clarentine,  now  I  feel  safe,  I  grow  sau- 
cy again.  ^ 

"  Lord  Welwyn's  time  for  setting  out  is  not  yet 
exactly  fixed,  but  I  have  great  reason  to  hope  we 
shall  all  take  our  flight  from  hence  pretty  nearly  at 
the  same  moment;  Harriet  and  Edgar  are  both  to  be 
of  the  party ;  the  first  will  reside  with  Lady  Julia, 
and  my  dear  brother  is  to  have  lodgings  in  our  neigh- 
bourhood. 

^'  Talking  of  brothers,  by  the  way,  do  not  let  me 
be  so  unnatural  as  to  omit  telling  you  that  we  have 
heard  very  lately  from,  poor  Frederick,  who  writes 
with  great  cheerfulness,  has  again  been  promoted, 
and  gives  us  strong  reason  to  hope  we  shall  see  him 
once  more  in  the  course  of  the  autumn. 

"  Mrs.  Harrington,  Heaven  be  praised  !  is  down  in 
Lincolnshire,  and  has  there  spent  the  whole  winter. 


191 

My  mother  ha^  writttn  to  her  an  account  of  the  ho'cus 
and  the  ands^  that  is  to  say,  of  all  our  late  proceedings, 
but  has  yet  received  no  answer.  I  have  a  notion  she  will 
not  be  much  delighted  ;  she  has  rather  a  horror  of 
a  certain  gentleman,  and  would  sooner  admit  any 
body  than  him,  I  believe,  to  the  honour  of  becoming 
her  relation.  What  is  to  be  done,  however  ?  I  can- 
not persuade  him  to  ask  for  her  consent,  do  all  I  will; 
and  her  displeasure  he  onlv  laughs  at.  Horrid  undu- 
tiful  ! 

"  Well,  but  now,  my  beloved  Clarentine,  I  must 
bid  you  farewel.  Write  to  me  ;  scold  me,  if  in  this 
letter  I  have  shewn  too  much  levity  ;  give  me  your 
pravers  and  your  good  wishes,  and  if*  you  have  any 
pitv  in  vour  nature,  bestow  it  all  on  Tuesday  se^nni^ht 
upon  your  frightened,  but  most  tenderly  affectionate, 
^'  Sophia  Delmington." 

"  Give  you  my  good  wishes,  dearest  girl  ?"  cried 
Clarentine,  when  she  had  read  this  letter.  "  Ah, 
may  heaven  only  grant  that  your  happiness  as  a  wife 
prove  proportioned  to  your  merit  as  a  daughter,  a  sis- 
ter, and  a  friend,  and  v/hose  is  the  felicity  that  will 
be  more  deservedly  perfect." 

Then  sitting  down  immediately  to  answer  her, 
while  her  mind  was  yet  wholly  engrossed  by  the  sub- 
ject, she  wrote  a  letter  of  congratulation  the  most  af- 
fectionate and  the  most  cordial,  and  enclosing  in  it  a 
shorter  one  upon  the  same  occasion  to  Lady  Del- 
mington,  sent  them  both  by  return  of  post. 

Scarcely  had  she  concluded  this  grateful  task^ 
when  she  was  summoned  down  stairs  to  a  gentleman, 
who,  the  maid  told  her,  was  just  come  in  with  Cap- 
tain Somerset. 

The  name  of  Somerset  was  sufficient,  and  indiffer- 
ent who  his  companion  might  be,  Clarentine  hasten- 
ed down  without  delav. 

As  she  approached  the  parlour  door,  she  ^istin- 


192 

guished,  talking  with  all  his  accustomed  vivacity,  the 
voice  of  Mr.  Manners,  and  when  she  opened  it,  be- 
held him  walking  up  and  down  the  room  arm  in  arm 
with  his  friend. 

They  .both  eagerly  approached  her  the  instant  she 
appeared,  and  the  first  compliments  over,  Mr,  Man- 
ners delivered  to  her  a  note  from  his  sister,  who,  he 
informed  her  was  in  town  as  w^ell  as  his  mother,  but 
had  not  had  it  in  her  power  to  wait  upon  her  for  rea- 
sons which  her  billet  would  explain. 

Clarentine  immediately  opened  it,  and  found  in  it 
these  words— 

TO  MISS  DELMINGTON. 

"  We  came  to  town  last  night,  my  dear  Miss  Del- 
mington,  and  I  am  already  impatient  to  see  you  ;  the 
most  horrible  cold  I  ever  had  in  my  life,  however,  pre- 
vents my  stirring  beyond  the  threshold,  and  will  pro- 
bably confine  me  for  many  days.  My  mother  joins 
with  me  therefore  in  requesting,  if  you  are  not  bet- 
ter engaged,  that  you  will  have  the  charity  to  come 
and  dine  with  us.  My  brother  will  bring  us  your  an- 
swer, and  should  it  be  favourable,  our  carriage  shall 
call  for  you  at  three  o'clock.  I  remain, 
"  Dear  Miss  Delmington, 

"  Ever  affectionately  yours, 

"Louisa  Manners." 
Albemarle-street,  February  16. 

"  I  accept  your  sister's  invitation,"  said  Clarentine, 
folding  up  the  note  and  addressing  Mr.  Manners, 
"  with  the  utmost  pleasure,  and  will  certainly  be 
ready  at  the  hour  she  appoints." 

"  I  thank  you  in  her  name,"  cried  he,  "  and  will 
now  gallop  back  to  announce  the  success  of  my  em- 
bassy.    Somerset,"  added  he,  "  do  you  return  with 


me 


?*> 


193 

"  No  ;  I  am  going  to  pay  a  visit  to  Mrs.  Denbigh." 

"  Mrs.  Denbigh  ?  aye,  true,  and  I  ought  to  do  tiie 
same  ;  I  have  not  time  to-day  though,  but  give  my 
respects  to  her,  and  tell  her  I  shall  take  the  earliest 
opportunity  of  throwing  myself  at  her  feet  and  re- 
pairing my  present  omission.** 

He  then  made  his  bow  to  Clarentine,  and  mount- 
ing his  horse,  hastened  back  to  Albemarle-street. 

Thbugh  scarce  a  day  had  passed  since  her  return 
from  Bath,  during  the  course  of  which  Clarentine 
had  not  seen,  and  even  for  hours'  conversed  with  So- 
merset, this  was  the  first  time  she  had  ever  found 
herself  .alone  with  him.  The  hints  Mrs.  Denbigh 
had  dropped  of  his  anxious  desire  to  come  to  an  ex- 
planation had  half-frightened  and  made  her  cautious- 
ly avoid  all  private  conversation  ;  it  was  not,  there- 
fore, without  extreme  embarrassment  she  now  per- 
ceived that  al/nost  every  chance  of.  escaping  it  was 
at  an  end.  iS/Gs,  Barclay  and  her  daughter  were  both 
in  town  ;  Mr.  Lenham  was  engaged  with  his  young 
pupils,  and  Somerset,  forgetting  his  intended  visit, 
seemed  by  the  thoughtfulness  of  his  looks,  to  be  me- 
ditating how  he  should  begin.  Clarentine  could  not 
bear  thus  passively  to  await  the  result  of  that  deli- 
beration, and  determining  to  check  all  explanation 
that  was  preceded  by  a  solemnity  so  awful,  threw  on 
her  cloak,  wh\ch  happened  to  be  in  the  room,  and 
saying  it  was  yet  early  enough  to  allow  of  her  defer- 
ring to  dress  herself  another  hour,  proposed  accom- 
panying him  to  Mrs.  Denbigh's. 

Somerset,  suspecting  her  motive,  appeared  a  little 
hurt  at  this  constant  eagerness  to  repress  every  at- 
tempt he  had  made  to  speak  to  her  apart  :  pitying 
her  evident  confusion,  however,  and  knowing  her  to 
be  incapable  of  affectation,  he  was  too  delicate  to  de- 
tain her  by  compulsion,  and  therefore,  with  whatever 
reluctance,  suffered  her  to  quit  the  room,  and  silently 
followed  her. 

Vol.  If.  R 


194 

They  walked  on  some  time,  Clarentine  compel- 
ling herself  to  talk  upon  indifferent  subjects  ;  he,  ab- 
sent and  grave,  scarcely  knowing  what  he  said,  when, 
unwilling  wholly  to  lose  so  favourable  an  opportu- 
nity, he  at  length  interrupted  her,  and  cried,  "  It 
w^ould  perhaps  be  selfish,  perceiving  how  sedulously 
you  seek  to  deny  me  the  indulgence  of  a  private  au- 
dience, were  I,  with  a  view  of  terminating  my  own 
suspense,  to  force  upon  you  what  I  have  to  say  :  but 
will  you.  Miss  Delmington,  consent  to  receive  a  let- 
ter from  me,  and  may  I  venture  to  hope  you  will 
answer  it !" 

Clarentine,  grateful  to  him  for  having  adopted  an 
expedient  that  would  save  her  from  so  much  painful 
embarrassment,  most  readily  replied  in  the  affirma- 
tive, and  felt  half  tempted  to  thank  him  for  his  con- 
siderate forbearance. 

On  their  arrival  at  Mrs.  Denbigh's,  they  found  her 
at  home  reading  a  letter  she  had  just  received  from 
Mrs.  Westbury.  It  contained  intelligence  of  Mrs. 
Hertford's  arrival  at  Bath,  and  of  her  having  been 
introduced  to  her  by  the  gallant  Mr.  Lea,  who,  in 
quality  of  cicesbeo^  attended  her  wherever  she  went. 

"  Farther,"  continued  Mrs.  Denbigh,  "  to  the  ho- 
hour  of  my  poor  friend's  heart,  though  to  the  dis- 
grace of  her  judgment  be  it  known,  she  is  as  com- 
pletely deceived  in  this  artful  woman  as  we  all  were. 
She  writes  concerning  her  in  the  most  favourable 
terms,  and  at  the  same  time  that  she  thinks  it  ne- 
cessary to  condole  with  me  upon  the  loss  we  must 
have  sustained  by  her  departure,  congratulates  her- 
self upon  having  made  so  valuable  an  acquisition  to 
her  own  society.'* 

To  this  speech  neither  Clarentine  nor  Somerset 
made  any  answer  ;  the  name  of  Mrs.  Hertford  was 
almost  equally  hateful  to  them  both,  and  their  wish  to 
change  a  conversation  of  which  she  was  the  object, 
led  them  instantly  to  start  another  subject. 


195 

"/have  h?d  letters  also  this  morning,"  said  Cla- 
rentine,  with  a  smile,  "  and  letters  that  prove  you. 
Madam,  to  be  so  infallible  a  prophetess,  thai  hence- 
forward I  shall  be  more  than  ever  afraid  of  your  pe- 
netration." 
.INIrs.  Denbigh  begged  her  to  explain  he^.-'  h — 

"  Have  you  forgot,  then,"  resunv.d  CI  ircntine — 
"'  your  prediction  relative  to  my  friend  Sophia  r" 

Mrs.  Denbigh,  deceived  by  this  speech,  as  Claren- 
tine  had  upon  a  former  occasion  i^een  by  one;  of  So- 
merset's, immediately  said,  ''  Is  she  married  r" 

"  Not  yet ;  but  the  formidable  ceremony^  as  she 
justly  calls  it,  is  to  take  place  on  Tuesday  se'rinight." 

"  I  am  rejoiced  to  hear  it,"  cried  Mrs.  Denbigh, 
"  and  rejoiced  also  to  think  we  are  lik^dy  so  soon  to 
have  her  in  this  part  of  the  world  :  I  long  to  see  her ; 
for  a  more  rational,  unaffected  creature  I  am  per- 
suaded does  not  exist.  Coquetry  is  now  so  much 
the  fashion, that  there  are  a  thousand  modern  Misses, 
without  half  her  real  merit,  who  would  have  thought 
it  extremely  pretty  to  have  kept  poor  Eltham  a  year 
or  two  in  suspense,  by  way  of  i'evenge  for  not  having 
been  the  Jirst  object  of  his  attachment." 

"  Dear  Madam,"  cried  Clarentine,  with  some 
earnestness,  "  what  an  opinion  you  have  of  the  un- 
fortunate girls  of  the  present  day  !" 

"  Nay,  do  not  undertake  their  defence,  my  dear  : 
their  cause  includes  not  yours^  for  I  am  convinced 
that  when  once  you  knew  your  own  mind,  you  would 
not  keep  a  deserving  man  in  doubt  a  moment." 

Conscious  how  ill  she  must,  just  then,  appear  to 
merit  such  a  compliment,  Clarentine  blushed,  and 
cast  down  her  eyes  j  and  Somerset  strolled  to  the 
window,  at  which  he  remained  till  the  conversation 
took  a  different  turn. 

In  a  short  time  she  arose  to  go,  and  attended  by 
Somerset,  who,  however,  took  leave  of  her  at  Mr. 
Lei^am's  door,  walked  home. 


196 

At  the  hour  mentioned  by  Miss  Manners,  the  car- 
riage came  for  her,  and  conveyed  her  to  Albemarle 
street. 

The  fair  invalid  received  her  with  much  cordiali- 
ty, and  though  impatient  under  illness  and  extremely 
out  of  spirits,  exerted  herself  to  make  the  day  pass 
off  to  her  friendly  visitor  cheerfully  and  agreeably. 
Somerset  was  the  only  guest  there  except  herself; 
and  he  was  more  gay  and  animated  than  she  had  seen 
him  since  the  night  of  their  return  from  Bath.  A 
party  was  formed  for  the  opera  the  ensuing  Saturday, 
if  Miss  Manners  was  by  that  time  sufficientlyrecov- 
ered  to  venture  outj  and  at  ten  o'clock  Clarentine 
took  her  leave. 


CHAPTER  XXV. 

EARLY  next  morning,  Somerset's  letter  arrived. 
Clarentine,  though  prepared  to  receive  it,  and  in  very 
little  doubt  as  to  its  contents,  opened  it  with  great 
agitation,  and  read  as  follows: 

TO  MISS  DELMINGTON. 

Clifford-street,  Feb.  17. 
"  Too  long,  my  amiable  friend,  have  I  studied 
your  guileless  and  gentle  nature  to  be  tempted  for 
one  instant  to  accuse  you  of  ungenerously  wishing  to 
trifle  with  the  feelings  and  happiness  of  another.  You 
have  evidently  sought  to  avoid  giving  me  any  oppor- 
tunity of  unburthening  to  you  my  heart ;  you  have 
convinced  me,  that  to  persevere  in  attempting  it  in 
person  would  distress  and  embarrass  you :  but,  at  th« 
same  time,  having  permitted  me  to  address  you  by 
letter,  you  have  proved  to  me  that  your  reserve  was 
not  the  effect  of  insensibility  to  my  inquietude,  or  of 
any  design  to  prolong  it.     I  bless  and  thank  you  with 


19V 

ihe  warmest  gratitude  for  this  soothing  conviction, 
and  now  hasten  to  the  subject  that  led  me  to  solicit 
your  attention. 

"  It  can — I  think  it  can,  be  no  new  information  to 
my  gentle  correspondent,  that  the  heart  of  her  devot- 
ed Somerset  has  been  wholly  hers  almost  from  the 
first  hour  he  saw  her  on  his  return  from  his  last  voy- 
age. Bringing  back  with  him  the  sweet  remembrance 
of  what  in  childhood  he  had  known  her ;  impatient 
once  again  to  behold  the  lovely,  the  undisguised  and 
youthful  friend  he  had  then  quitted,  he  arrived  pre- 
pared for  the  impression  he  was  to  receive,  and  un- 
armed to  resist  her  power  over  his  heart.  Oh,  my 
Clarentine,  as  I  again  surveyed  you,  as  with  looks 
of  sweetness  and  confidence  you  addressed  me,  call- 
ed me  your  friend,  allowed  me  the  indulgence  of 
hourly  and  daily  seeing  you,  how  did  the  visions, 
which  even  in  absence  I  had  cherished,  strengthen 
and  increase !  Often,  when  harassed  and  fatigued  by 
the  dangers  of  my  profession,  often  had  I  said  to  my- 
self, "  What  a  consolatory  recompense  perhaps  awaits 
me  on  my  return!  Clarentine  Delmington,  the  dear, 
the  ingenuous  Clarentine,  when  next  I  see  her,  will 
from  an  interesting  and  attaching  child,  be  grown  in- 
to a  fascinating  woman.  Retired  as  was  the  situa- 
tion in  which  I  left  her,  unless  the  fortunate  Edgar 
has  succeeded  in  conciliating  her  aftection,  there  is 
yet  a  chance  of  my  finding  her  disengaged.  Oh,  if 
such  should  be  the  case  ;  if  after  all  my  toils,  my  long 
exile,  and  the  hardships  incident  to  a  sailor's  career, 
I  should  in  her  meet  with  a  reward — a  friend — a 
mistress — what  would  be  my  happiness  !" 

"  These  flattering  illusions,  however,  were  but  of 
short  duration.  The  distant,  and  to  me,  inexplica- 
ble coldness  that  suddenly  took  place  of  the  conde- 
scension with  which,  on  my  first  arrival,  you  had 
treated  me,  checked  the  presumption  with  which  I 
had  indulged  them,  and  taught  me,  though  I  had 
R2 


198 

liot  the  courage  long  to  fly  your  society,  at  least  to 
conceal  my  sentiments,  and  never  to  reveal  to  any 
my  disappointment.  That  coldness,  originating  in 
the  artifices  of  a  woman  whose  very  recollection  is 
abhorrent  to  me,  I  mean  not,  however,  to  complain 
of;  it  is  at  length  sufficiently  explained  ;  and  reliev- 
ed from  the  insupportable  apprehension  of  having 
m}'self  caused  is  by  some  undesigned  offence,  I  now 
perceive  with  joy  that  it  has  wholly  ceased,  and 
that  my  friend  seems  permanently  retrieved. 

"  Oh  yet,  then,  my  Clarentine — beloved  from  in- 
fancy, first  and  dearest  object  of  my  heart ! — oh  yet, 
then,  realise  those  delightful  visions  ! — destroy  not 
again  the  fair  prospect  your  own  sweetness  has  rais- 
ed :  prove  not  to  me  that,  in  venturing  once  more  to 
cherish  the  hope  of  your  becoming  mine,  I  err  too 
vainly  to  be  forgiven!  but  accept  my  vows,  and  with 
the  noble  candour,  the  generosity  that  has  ever  dis- 
tinguished you,  tell  me,  that  you  think  me  not  un- 
worthy of  adding  yet  another,  and  a  more  tender 
title  to  that  of  guardian,  lover,  and  friend  ! 

"William  Somerset." 

Clarentine  w^ept  over  this  letter  with  mingled  sen- 
sations of  gratitude  and  joy,  and  determined  by  the 
speed  with  which  she  answered  it,  to  prove  to  its  be- 
loved and  generous  writer  the  high  sense  she  had  of 
his  disinterested  attachment,  and  the  sincere  and  re- 
ciprocal affection  of  her  heart. 

TO  CAPT.  SOMERSET. 

"  My  eyes  are  yet  blinded  by  the  tears  your  letter 
has  drawn  from  me  :  they  were  tears,  however,  not 
of  sorrow,  but  of  admiration  and  thankfulness.  So- 
merset, my  noble  minded,  and  I  will  add,  dea?'  So- 
merset, I  am  yours.  My  hand  I  now  give  you,  and 
mv  heart  I  loner  since  lost  all  power  to  withhold  from 

"C-  D." 


199 

In  less  than  an  hour  after  it  had  been  despatched, 
this  billet  brought  the  warm-hearted  and  enraptured 
Somerset  to  pour  forth  his  fervent  acknowledgments 
at  the  feet  of  its  fair  and  ingenuous  writer.  She  re- 
ceived him  in  her  own  apartment — in  that  closet  to 
which  he  had  so  long  been  denied  admittance,  and 
with  looks  of  timidity  and  consciousness,  with  alter- 
nate smiles  and  blushes,  listened  to  his  ardent  pro- 
testations, and  frankly  confirmed  the  avowal  which 
his  letter  had  irresistibly  torn  from  her. 

Insensible  to  the  progress  of  time,  they  had  spent 
near  three  hours  together,  and  Somerset  thought  not 
of  retiring,  nor  had  Clarentine  the  courage  to  send 
him  away,  till,  at  length,  they  were  interrupted  by  a 
summons  to  the  dining  parlour.  She  then  entreated 
him  to  go  back  to  town,  fearing  that  the  privacy  of 
their  interview  would  occasion  some  disagreeable  ob- 
servations from  the  Barclays,  which  she  well  knew 
would  in  his  presence  disconcert  her  much  more 
cruelly  than  if  they  were  wholly  addressed  to  her- 
self. He  obeyed  her  without  hesitation,  though 
not  without  reluctance,  and  having  obtained  per- 
mission to  wait  upon  her  again  the  next  morning, 
took  his  leave  in  the  tenderest  and  most  grateful 
manner. 

Hastening  down  stairs  the  instant  he  was  gone,  on 
entering  the  parlour  she  found  the  whole  family  al- 
ready assembled  and  seated  at  table.  She  made  a 
confused  apology  for  being  so  late,  and  then  taking 
her  usual  place  without  daring  to  raise  her  eyes, 
began  her  dinner  in  silent  embarrassment,  apprehen- 
sive every  moment  of  being  interrogated,  and  una- 
ble to  determine  what  excuse  she  should  make  for 
herself. 

Miss  Barclay,  who  from  the  time  she  first  walked 
in  had  never  looked  at  any  other  object,  in  a  very  few 
minutes  fully  realised  her  fears.- 

''  Has  not  Captain  Somerset  been  with  you  all  the 


200 

morning,  Miss  Delmington  ?"  cried  she — "  Pray  why 
did'nt  he  come  in  to  dinner  ?• ' 

Clarentine,  though  she  expected  something  blunt, 
was  yet  by  no  means  prepared  for  a  question  quite  so 
direct,  and  knew  so  little  how  to  answer  it,  that  be- 
fore she  could  speak  Miss  Barclay  had  time  to  add,- 
"  There  has  been  a  gentleman  here  since  breakfast, 
a  Mr.  Manners,  enquiring  for  you;  but  thinking  it 
would  be  pity  to  interrupt  so  snug  a  conversation,  I 
bid  the  maid  tell  him  you  was  particularly  engaged 
with  Captain  Somerset,  and  could  not  see  him." 

Clarentine  coloured,  and  looked  as  she  really 
felt,  extremely  provoked,  whilst  Mr.  Lenham,  with 
some  severity,  said,  "  And  by  what  authority,  Lu- 
cy, do  you  allow  yourself  to  deliver  such  messages 
in  Miss  Delmington's  name  without  her  concur- 
rence ?" 

"  Lord !  uncle,  I  thought  it  was  but  doing  as  one 
v/ould  be  done  by."  Mrs.  Barclay  laughed,  but 
neither  Mr.  Lenham  nor  Clarentine,  though  almost 
equally  indignant,  chose  to  make  any  reply. 

In  the  evening  their  party  was  reinforced  by  the 
addition  of  Mrs.  Denbigh,  to  whom  Clarentine  open 
and  unreserved,  took  an  opportunity  of  co:nmunicat- 
ing  what  had  passed  in  the  morning.  That  lady, 
warmly  interested  in  all  that  concerned  her,  and  en- 
tertaining of  Somerset  an  opinion  the  most  honour- 
able, congratulated  her  with  the  truest  affr-ction 
upon  the  happy  termination  of  her  late  anxiety,  and 
uttered  the  kindest  wishes  for  her  future  and  last- 
ng  felicity. 

Somerset  himself,  the  next  day,  announced  the 
same  intelligence  to  Mr.  Lenham,  and  was  heard 
with  equal,  if  not  yet  greater  satisfaction.  Attached 
to  him  more  as  a  father  than  a  tutor,  the  worth  and 
excellence  of  his  nature  had  been  known  to  him  even 
from  his  boyish  days  ;  formed  to  cultivate  and  value 
the  blessings  of  select-friendship  and  domestic  socie- 


201 

ty,  Mr.  Lenham  was  thoroughly  assured  there  was 
no  other  species  of  happiness  his  heart  was  so  well 
fitted  to  enjoy,  and  no  woman  upon  earth,  who  frotti 
the  similarity  of  her  taste  and  pursuits,  was  so  per- 
fectly adapted  to  his  character,  as  the  modest  and  re- 
tired Clurentine.  The  connexion  he  had  once  ap- 
|)rehended  he  was  upon  the  point  of  forming  with 
Mrs.  Hertford  had  always  given  him  pain ;  less  be- 
cause he  at  that  time  harboured  any  unfavourable 
idea  of  her,  than  because  he  had  discovered  the  ap- 
parently hopeless  attachment  of  his  young  ward,  and 
grieved  to  observe  what  ravages  that  attachment  was 
making  upon  her  peace.  He  thought  himself  bound 
in  honour,  however,  not  to  betray  a  secret  he  had 
thus  clandestinely  penetrated,  and  confining  alike  his 
regret  and  his  suspicions  to  his  own  breast,  forbore 
all  attempts  to  serve  the  one,  from  his  reluctance  to 
injure  the  other.  But  now  that  the  real  character  of 
Mrs.  Hertford  was  known  to  him,  and  all  competi- 
tion was  therefore  at  an  end,  he  hesitated  not  in  de- 
claring the  cordial  preference  he  had  always  felt  dis- 
posed to  give  Clarentine,  and  the  implicit  reliance 
with  which  he  depended  upon  the  goodness  of  her 
heart,  and  the  firmness  of  her  principles. 

From  the  moment  this  attachment  became  known 
in  the  family,  the  extraordinary  license  with  which 
Miss  Barclay  permitted  herself  to  animadvert  and 
make  sneering  comments  upon  every  look  as  well  as 
action  of  Clarentine's,  rendered  the  house  so  ex- 
tremely disagreeable  to  her,  that  had  she  been  influ- 
enced by  no  other  motive,  she  would  have  found  it 
difficult  to  resist  the  urgency  with  which  Somerset 
implored  her  to  become  his  without  further  delay — 
"  My  probation,"  said  he,  half  smiling,  "  has  surely 
been  sufficiently  long,  dearest  Clarentine,  and  my 
courtship,  though  indirect^  has  also,  I  think,  been  of 
a  duration  which  in  conscience  you  cannot  wish  to 
protract.      What  more  could  we  discover  in  each 


202 

other's  characters,  after  an  acquaintance  of  so  many- 
years,  were  we  now  with  any  view  of  that  sort  to  de- 
fer our  union  even  for  a  twelvemonth  ?  I  am  no  dis- 
sembler ;  the  good  and  the  bad  in  my  disposition,  are 
equally  penetrable,  and  all  your  vigilance  and  delay 
will  succeed  in  detecting  in  me  nothing  more  than 
an  increase  perhaps  of  love,  and  a  certain  increase  oi 
impatience." 

Clarentine  laughed  at  this  remonstrance,  but  at 
the  same  time  assured  him  that,  far  from  desiring  to 
raise  unnecessary  difficulties,  after  having  once  freely 
avowed  to  him  the  sentiments  of  her  heart,  she  wish- 
ed only  to  defer  their  marriage  till  she  had  written 
to  Lady  Delmington,  and  received,  what  she  doubt- 
ed not  to  obtain,  her  sanction  and  consent. 

"  Ah,  rather  then,  let  me  write  to  her  !"  cried  So- 
merset with  warmth  ;  "  I  distrust  the  earnestness 
with  which  you  will  plead  for  me  ;  suffer  me  there- 
fore to  discuss  the  subject  with  her  myself." 

Clarentine,  by  no  means  sorry  to  resign  to  him  so 
awkward  a  task,  made  no  opposition  to  this  proposal, 
but  retiring  with  him  to  Mr.  Lenham's  study,  he 
tliere  wrote  a  short  letter,  which,^ though  she  criticised 
extremely,  he  permitted  her  not  to  alter,  but  the  in- 
stant it  was  concluded,  sealed  and  immediately  des- 
patched. 

Soon  after  breakfast  the  next  morning,  she  receiv- 
ed the  following  note  from  Miss  Manners. 

TO  MISS  DELMINGTON. 

"  I  have  at  length  persuaded  my  mother  that  I 
may  be  permitted  to  venture  to  the  Opera  to-night 
without  any  danger  ;  the  truth  is,  she  does  not  know 
that  the  villanous  apothecary  who  attends  me  insists 
^•upon  bleeding  me  again  this  morning  :  he  talks  of  my 
being  feverish,  and  makes  horrid  wry  faces  at  me, 
I^hall  not  attend  to  all  his  professional  cant,  how- 


ever,  but  sick  or  well,  dead  or  alive,  am  determined 
to  submit  to  this  irksome  restraint  no  longer. 

"  We  have  borrowed  a  lady's  box  for  this  even- 
ing, and  are  to  have  it  entirely  to  ourselves.  The 
pit  is  now  become  too  vulgar  to  sit  in,  at  least,  so  I 
am  told.  Young  Westbur>%  who  is  now  in  town, 
and  called  here  yesterday,  protests  that  on  Tuesday 
last  he  stood  during  the  whole  of  the  second  dance 
next  a  good  old  nurse,  or  something  of  that  sort,  who 
finding  the  wind  blew  cold  from  the  stage,  turned 
the  train  of  her  gown  over  her  shoulders,  and  sat 
with  it  so,  very  composedly  till  the  curtain  dropped  ! 

"  Come  to  us  early,  dear  Miss  Delmington,  and 
make  Captain  Somerset  send  his  carriage  for  you, 
as  ours  is  never  allowed  (for  fear  it  should  catch  cold 
and  want  bleedijig)  to  go  out  in  the  morning  when  it 
has  any  duty  to  do  at  night. 

'''•  Adieu — your's  ever, 

"  L.  Maxvners." 

Feb.  21st. 

This  prudent  note  Clarentine  answered  with  some 
degree  of  irony,  congratulating  its  fair  writer  upon 
the  philosophical  indifference  she  expressed  concern- 
ing either  life  or  death,  and  applauding  her  for  that 
enthusiastic  passion  for  music  which  led  her  thus  to 
brave  all  danger  for  the  sake  of  hearing  a  fine  or- 
chestra !  She  concluded,  however,  by  promising 
punctually  to  fulfil  her  engagement. 

Accordingly,  at  the  proper  time,  attended  by  one 
of  Somerset's  servants,  she  drove  in  a  hackney  coach 
to  Albemarle-street,  preferring  that  conveyance  to 
accepting  his  carriage. 

Miss  Manners  ran  out  to  meet  her  at  the  head  of 
the  stairs,  ready  dressed  and  in  excellent  spirits,  but 
so  dreadfully  hoarse  she  could  hardly  make  herself 
intelligible. 

Clarentine  shook  her  head  at  her  with  an  expres- 


204 

sive  smile,  and  calling  her  an  incorrij^ible  7'acket, 
proceeded  forward  to  pay  her  compliments  to  her 
mother. 

In  a  very  short  time  they  were  rejoined  by  three 
gentlemen  who  were  to  escort  them — Somerset,  Mr. 
Manners,  and  young  Westbury ;  and  as  soon  as  tea 
was  over,  all  repaired  to  the  Haymarket. 

Their  box  was  upon  the  second  tier,  and  extremely 
near  the  stage,  which — the  Opera  having  been  began 
some  time  before  they  entered — was  already  crowd- 
ed with  gentlemen  who  were  standing  at  the  side 
scenes,  and  whom  in  a  few  minutes  Mr.  Westbury, 
as  anxious  to  display  the  graces  of  his  person  as 
themselves,  went  to  join. 

Mr.  Manners  then  stationed  himself  behind  Cla- 
rentine,  and  addressing  her  in  a  low  voice,  "  Pray, 
Miss  Delmington,"  said  he,  "  till  what  time  did  the 
important  business  you  were  transacting  with  So- 
merset the  other  morning  engage  you  V 

Clarentine,  extremely  confused,  answered,  "  I 
ought  to  have  apologised  to  you  sooner  for  the  rude 
message  you  received,  bpt  I  assure  you  it  was  not 
sent  out  by  me,  nor  did  I  know  you  had  called  till 
after  I  went  down  to  dinner." 

"  And  who  was  the  kind  friend  that  so  seasonably 
undertook  the  task  of  removing  all  intruders  ?" 

"  I  was  very  far,"  answered  Clarentine,  "  either 
from  thinking  the  act  itself  a  kind  one,  or  you  an  in- 
truder." 

Mr.  Manners  bowed,  and  was  beginning  again  to 
speak,  but  with  an  archness  in  his  looks  which  fright- 
ened her  so  much,  that,  turning  hastily  from  him, 
she  said,  "  I  must  not  suffer  you  to  talk  to  me  now ; 
we  are  going  to  have  a  song." 

At  the  end  of  the  first  act  young  Westbury  re- 
turned to  them,  purposely  to  tell  Clarentine  he  had 
iust  seen  a  friend  of  her's,  who,  when  the  Opera  was 
over,  he  would  bring  round  to  her.      *'  I   have  not 


205 

been  able  yet,"  added  he,  "  to  speak  to  him,  for  the 
stage  is  so  full  it's  impossible  to  get  at  him  ;  but  I 
am  siw  da  monfait^  and  determined  not  to  let  him  go 
without  having  seen  you." 

"  And  who  is  this  friend,  Sir  V  said  Clarentine 
with  great  indifference. 

'-'-  Mr.  Lea,  perhaps,"  cried  Mr.  Manners. 

"  O,  for  Heaven's  sake,  Mr.  Westbury,"  cried  his 
sister,  "  don't  bring  him  here  !  There  is  nobody  upon 
earth  I  hate  so  much  !" 

"  And  yet,"  said  Westbury,  "the  last  time  I  was 
at  your  house  v.hilst  you  remained  at  Bath,  I  met 
him  there." 

"  That  says  nothing  in  his  favour  ;  one's  obliged 
to  invite  all  sorts  of  people  sometimes  :  I  repeat  it, 
therefore,  he's  my  aversion,  and  if  you  bring  him  to 
us,  I'll  never  forgive  you.'* 

"  Westbury,"  cried  Mr.  Manners,  "  I'll  go  behind 
the  scenes  with  you,  and  you  shall  shew  me  this 
friend  of  Miss  Delmington's." 

Westbury  upon  this  took  him  by  the  arm,  and  they 
quitted  the  box  together,  ^ 

"  My  brother,  I  fancy,"  said  Miss  Manners,  when 
they  were  gone,  "  felt  by  no  means  sorry  that  such 
an  excuse  was  given  him  to  exhibit  his  pretty  person 
likewise.  Pray,  Captain  Somerset,  don't  you  wish 
to  join  them  ?" 

"  Yes,"  answered  he,  smiling,  "  to  serve  you,  and 
hasten  the  approach  of  Mr.  Lea." 

**  O,  don't  talk  to  me  of  that  man  !" 

"  Then  do  not  talk  to  me  of  leaving  you." 

"  Dear,  I  thought  I  was  doing  you  an  immense 
favour,  for  I  concluded  you  only  staid  with  us  from 
motives  of  politeness,  and  was  longing  the  whole 
time  to  play  the  ISiarcissus  among  the  rest  of  the  to- 
nish  Macaronies  upon  the  stage." 

"  No,  really,  I  have  not  any  such  ambition." 

Vol.  II.  S 


206 

"  You  reserve  yourself  as  a  novelty  then,  to  be  ad- 
mired in  the  coffee-room  ?" 

"  Yes,"  replied  he,  with  a  laugh,  "  you  have  now 
perfectly  guessed  it." 

"  Lord,  how  strangely  you  answer !  I  can  make 
nothing  of  you,  and  so  I  leave  it  to  Miss  Delming- 
ton  to  take  you  in  hand." 

"  I  am  glad,"  said  Clarentine,  "  your  dialogue  is 
concluded,  foV  as  the  curtain  is  now  drawing  up  I 
shall  wish  to  be  permitted  to  listen  to  the  singers." 

Very  little  further  was  said  till  the  end  of  the  last 
dance,  when  Miss  Manners,  impatient  to  get  to  the 
coffee-room  before  Mr.  Westbury  could  put  his  me- 
nace in  execution,  hurried  them  all  out  of  the  box, 
and  besought  her  mother  to  lead  towards  it  immedi- 
ately. 

In  their  way  thither,  the  lobby  being  extremely 
crowded,  Clarentine,  fearing  to  be  separated  from 
her  party,  most  gladly  accepted  Somerset's  arm  ; 
whilst  Mrs.  and  Miss  Manners,  less  unused  to  such 
a  bustle,  proceeded  composedly  forward,  appearing 
quite  as  much  at  their  ease  as  if  they  had  been  in 
their  own  house. 

Though  slowly,  and  with  difficulty,  they  had  just 
reached  the  door  of  the  coffee-room,  and  were  upon 
the  point  of  entering,  when  Clarentine,  as  she  was 
drawing  away  her  hand,  and  turning  to  thank  So- 
merset for  his  assistance,  beheld  immediately  behind 
her,  wall;ing  arm  in  arm  Mr.  Eltham,  and  Sir  Ed- 
gar Delmington  ! 

Doubt  and  astonishment,  not  wholly  unmixed  v/ith 
consternation,  seized  her  at  this  sight,  and  bereft 
her  of  all  power  to  advance.  She  changed  colour, 
and  again  almost  involuntarily  catching  hold  of  Som- 
erset's arm,  drew  him  back,  and  scarcely  knowing 
what  she  said,  whispered,  "  Let  these  gentlemen 
pass." 


207 

«  What  gentlemen  ?*'  cried  he,  but  at  the  same  in- 
stant looking  round  and  perceiving  who  they  were, 
he  touched  his  hat  to  them,  though  not  without  him- 
self undergoing  a  considerable  alteration  of  coun- 
tenance, and  stopped  to  give  them  time,  if  they  wish- 
ed it,  to  speak. 

Eltham  was  the  first  to  make  use  of  this  opportu- 
nity. He  quitted  his  companion,  and,  coming  for- 
ward, gravely  said,  *'  I  hope  I  have  the  honour  of 
seeing  you  well,  Miss  Delmington  ?" 

Clarentine  only  curtsied;  and  Sir  Edgar  now  ap- 
proaching her  likewise,  in  an  unsteady  voice,  and 
with  a  countenance  that  indicated  the  strongest  emo- 
tion, repeated  the  same  enquiry  nearly  in  similar 
terms,  and  then  attempted  to  express  the  pleasure  so 
unexpected  a  meeting  had  given  him;  the  words, 
however,  died  on  his  lips — he  hesitated,  stammered, 
and  at  length  abruptly  interrupting  himself,  said  as 
he  retreated,  "  I  fear  we  detain  you  from  your  party, 
Madam  ?" 

Clarentine,  in  whose  affectionate  heart  the  sight  of 
this  early  friend  had  revived  the  remembrance  of  all 
their  former  intimacy,  was  struck  with  sorrow,  on 
recovering  from  her  first  amazement,  at  the  dejec- 
tion of  his  looks  and  voice,  and  concerned  to  hear 
herself  addressed  by  him  with  such  chilling  forma- 
lity. Innocent  and  unreserved,  she  had  forgot  the 
cause  which  had  separated  them,  and  seeing  him  on- 
ly in  the  light  of  a  long  absent  brother — -of  one  whom 
she  had  always  loved,  and  still  retained  the  truest  re- 
gard for,  she  held  out  to  him  her  hand,  and,  in  a 
tone  of  the  most  conciliating  kindness,  said — "  No, 
my  dear  Sir  Edgar,  you  do  not  detain  me  :  I  stay 
because  I  am  sincerely  rejoiced  to  see  you,  and  have 
a  thousand  questions  to  ask  concerning  your  family. 
How  did  you  leave  Lady  Delmington,  and  my  dear- 
est Sophia?" 

Sir  Edgar  surprised,  yet  deeply  affected  by  this 


208 

friendliness  and  cordiality,  accepted  her  offered  hand 
with  gratitude,  and  bowing  upon  it  as  if  to  conceal 
his  agitation,  after  a  momentary  pause,  answered, 
*'  They  were  both  well,  I  thank  you,  and  would  both, 
had  they  known  the  honour  I  should  have  of  seeing 
you  whilst  in  town,  have  made  me  the  bearer  of  their 
itiost  affectionate  remembrances." 

'*  What  stay,  Sir,"  cried  Somerset,  now  address- 
ing Eltham,  "  do  you  design  to  make  in  London?" 

"  We  arrived,'*  answered  he,  "  late  this  evening, 
and  return  on  Tuesday  morning.** 

Just  then  Mr.  Manners  and  young  Westbury,  as 
they  were  forcing  themselves  a  passage  through  the 
crowd  in  their  way  to  the  coffee-room,  perceived  and 
joined  them. 

"  Ah,  Sir  Edgar,**  cried  the  latter,  familiarly  ad- 
dressing the  evidently  astonished  Baronet,  '*  you 
have  anticipated  me,  I  find ;  I  had  prepared  Miss 
Delmington  to  accept  a  friend,  and  intended  to  have 
conducted  you  to  her  myself  before  she  left  her  box, 
))ut  you  were  off  so  quick  after  the  curtain  dropped 
I  had  no  opportunity  of  speaking  to  you.** 

"I  have  not  the  honour.  Sir,"  said  Sir  Edgar, 
gravely,  "  of  knowing  to  whom  I  am  indebted  for 
such  unmerited  attention." 

Somewhat  abashed  by  this  discouraging  reply,  yet 
determined,  after  all  the  parade  with  which  he  had 
boasted  of  their  long  acquaintance,  not  to  suffer  him- 
self to  be  so  easily  repulsed,  Westbury  now  said — 
''  I  had  the  pleasure.  Sir,  though  I  was  not  in  the 
same  college,  of  seeing  you  often  at  Oxford:  my 
name  is  Westbury," 

Sir  Edgar,  in  answer  to  this  interesting  informa- 
tion, made  a  slight  bow ;  and  then  turning  to  Cla- 
rentine,  "  If  you  will  now  proceed.  Miss  Delming- 
ton," said  he,  "we  will  do  ourselves  the  honour  of 
following  you." 

Clarentine  immediatelv   moved   on,   and  finding 


209 

Mrs.  and  Miss  Manners,  when  she  entered,  seated 
near  the  door,  placed  herself  next  them  ;  Somerset 
and  Sir  Edgar  remaining  with  her,  the  three  other 
gentlemen  strolling  to  the  upper  end  of  the  room. 

The  mournful  silence  into  which  Sir  Edgar  now 
sunk,  the  melancholy  expression  of  his  countenance, 
and  the  fixed,  yet  unconscious  attention  with  which 
he  riveted  his  eyes  upon  her  face,  disconcerted  and 
at  the  same  time  pained  her  so  much,  she  scarcely 
knew  how  to  look  up,  or  in  what  manner  to  support 
any  part  in  the  conversation.  Gaiety,  at  such  a  mo- 
ment— seeing  before  her  with  every  symptom  of  un- 
happiness  a  man  she  had  so  long  know  n,  and  so  long 
valued — it  was  impossible  either  to  affect  or  feel : 
saddened  upon  such  an  occasion,  or  even  thoughtful, 

in  the  presence  of  Somerset of  him  to  whom  she 

had  so  lately  avowed  her  attachment,  and  was  so  soon 

to  be  united she  dreaded  to  appear :  distressed, 

therefore,  most  cruelly,  and  apprehensive  of  being 
observed,  she  sat  confused  and  irresolute,  not  know- 
ing how  to  speak  with  her  usual  composure,  and  re- 
luctant to  betray  her  real  feelings. 

Somerset  was  the  first  to  perceive  and  pity  her  un- 
easiness. Too  liberal  and  noble-minded  to  entertain 
any  suspicions  to  her  disadvantage,  he  imputed  it  at 
once  to  the  true  cause,  compassion  and  friendship  ; 
and  felt  not  for  a  single  instant  any  other  sensation 
towards  his  less  fortunate  rival  than  that  of  humane 
and  generous  sympathy.  The  depression  so  visible  in 
that  rival's  countenance  Somerset  was,  of  all  others, 
when  he  looked  at  Clarentine,  and  remembered  what 
had  been  his  own  sufferings  at  the  time  he  fancied  her 
lost  to  him,  the  most  likely  to  pardon.  Her  commi- 
seration for  him  he  honoured,  and  the  undisguised 
and  artless  simplicity  with  which  she  had  suffered  her 
kindness  towards  him  to  appear,  much  as  it  might 
have  irritated  a  distrustful  or  a  selfish  nature,  he  ve- 
nerated and  loved. 

S  2 


^10 


Anxious  therefore  to  dissipate  her  embarrassment, 
and  if  possible  to  engage  Sir  Edgar's  attention,  he  ex- 
erted himself  in  order  to  draw  him  into  conversation, 
and  started  by  turns  every  subject  \yhich  he  thought 
best  calculated  to  interest  him.  Lady  Julia  he  ven- 
tured not  to  name  ;  but  he  talked  to  him  of  his  own 
family,  of  Madame  d'Arzele,  of  his  sister's  approach- 
ing marriage,  and  of  the  pleasure  \vith  which  Miss 
Delmington  looked  forward  to  her  arrival  in  town. 
Sir  Edgar,  though  he  was  not  sensible  of  half  the 
merit  of  this  considerate  civility,  answered  him  with 
politeness,  and  made  an  attempt  to  appear  more  cheer- 
ful ;  his  success,  however,  was  by  no  means  adequate 
to  the  pain  which  the  effort  inflicted  ;  so  little  indeed 
did  it  answer  to  it,  that  Eltham,  who  in  a  short  time 
again  approached  them,  observing  the  sadness  and 
despondency  with  which  he  still  appeared  to  be  op- 
pressed, hastily  moved  towards  him,  and  taking  hold 
of  his  arm,  said,  in  a  low  voice,  yet  with  great  ear- 
nestness, "  Come  away,  Delmington,  come  away ! 
— you'll  unman  yourself  if  you  stay  here  any  longer!'' 

Roused  by  this  unexpected  admonition,  and  but 
too  well  convinced  of  its  propriety,  Sir  Edgar  mere- 
ly stopped  to  make  his  parting  bow,  and  then  with  a 
look  that  claimed  and  excited  all  Clarentine's  tender- 
est  pity,  suffered  himself  without  opposition  to  be 
drawn  away. 

When  they  were  gone — "  Who  is  that  dismal  look- 
ing young  man  ?"  cried  Miss  Manners;  "his  coun- 
tenance and  figure  interest  me  in  his  behalf,  though 
he  has  really  made  me  almost  as  vapourish  as  him- 
self." 

Clarentine,  with  a  sigh,  replied  he  was  a  relation 
of  hers,  and  his  name  was  Delmington 

"  Well,  I  protest  I  thought  so,"  resumed  Miss 
Manners,  "  there  is  so  strong  a  family  resemblance 
between  you,  that  the  whole  time  he  stood  here  I  had 


211 

got  it  into  my  head  he  was  somehow  or  other  con- 
nected with  you.  But  pray  do  tell  me,  what  is  the 
matter  with  him  ?" 

Somerset,  who  saw  the  confusion  to  which  this 
question  gave  rise,  spared  Clarentine  the  pain  of  an- 
swering it  by  saying  with  a  half  smile,  "  Cannot  Miss 
Manners,  if  indeed  she  suspects  our  friend  of  being 
unhappy,  bestow  upon  him  her  good  wishes  and  her 
compassion,  without  suffering  her  curiosity  to  pre- 
cede her  benevolence  ?" 

"  O  dear,  if  his  history  is  a  secret,  I  don't  desire 
to  penetrate  it !  my  pity  is  heartily  at  his  service,  and 
I  am  only  sorry  he  has  not  something  more  consola- 
tory to  depend  on." 

"  He  has,  I  hope,"  thought  Clarentine,  "  the  most 
certain  of  all  dependencies,  rectitude  and  good  prin- 
ciples !" 

Mrs.  Manners*s  carriage  being  now  announced, 
her  son  hastened  forward  to  offer  his  assistance  in 
conducting  Clarentine  to  it,  whilst  his  sister  put 
herself  under  the  care  of  Somerset,  and  Mr.  West- 
bury  had  the  condescension  to  give  his  hand  to  her 
mother. 

It  had  been  previously  determined  that  Clarentine 
was  to  sleep  that  night  in  Albemarle-street,  and  re- 
turn the  following  day  to  Mr.  Lenham's.  Somerset 
therefore  took  leave  of  her  at  the  coach  door,  after 
receiving  an  invitation  from  Mrs.  Manners  to  break- 
fast the  next  morning. 

Clarentine*s  mind,  after  this  distressing  interview, 
remained  in  a  state  of  the  utmost  inquietude  and  agi- 
tation. Sophia's  late  letters,  and  the  favourable  ac- 
counts she  had  heard  from  time  to  time  of  Sir  Ed- 
gar's amended  spirits,  had  taught  her  to  hope,  as  well 
for  his  own  as  the  sake  of  Lady  Julia,  that  the  juve- 
nile partiality  he  had  felt  for  her  had  wholly  given 
way  to  reason  and  absence.  The  deep  and  settled 
depression,  however,  she  had  with  so  much  regret  ob- 


212 

served  in  his  appearance — —his  manners — ^liis  very 
voice,  had  destroyed  all  those  expectations,  and  left 
her  nothing  but  the  afflicting  consciousness  of  having, 
with  whatever  innocence,  been  the  means  of  blasting 
all  his  youthful  happiness.  Soft  and  gentle  as  was  her 
heart,  this  certainty  was  anguish  to  her;  and  she 
wept  with  bitterness  over  the  fate  of  a  man,  whom, 
to  have  restored  to  peace  and  tranquillity,  she  would 
have  sacrificed  almost  every  personal  gratification. 
Sincerely  did  she  lament  the  unfortunate  chance  which 
had  again  brought  them  together  and  again  revived, 
perhaps  at  the  very  time  his  laudable  and  vigorous 
efforts  had  succeeded  in  nearly  eradicating  her  image 
from  his  mind,  all  his  former  sentiments.  No  vanity, 
no  little  ungenerous  exultation  mixed  itself  with  these 
reflections  :  it  was  far  from  being  a  matter  of  triuntph 
to  her  to  think  that  she  had  been  the  cause  of  giving 
pain  to  any  human  being ;  much  less  to  a  friend  who, 
like  Edgar,  had  she  been  permitted  to  accept,  at  the 
time  he  proposed  himself  to  her,  before  her  heart  be- 
came sensible  in  favour  of  another,  she  would  have 
given  her  hand  to  with  gratitude,  and  have  made  it 
the  sole  study  of  her  life  to  have  repaid  him  for  his 
disinterested  preference.  Her  love  for  him  as  a  child 
had  been  animated  and  sincere,  and  though,  as  she 
grew  up,  the  frequent  changes  she  witnessed  in  his 
temper,  perplexing  as  they  were  to  her  till  the  ill  cho- 
sen moment  of  his  declaration,  had  often  piqued  and 
offended  her,  yet  the  habit  she  was  in  of  regarding 
him  with  confidence,  and  treating  him  with  intimacy, 
assured  her  that  in  contributing  to  his  felicity  she 
should  greatly  have  promoted  her  own.  That  time, 
however,  was  passed;  and  equal  to  the  wretchedness 
he  experienced  would  now  have  been  hers,  had  she, 
to  unite  herself  to  him,  been  compelled  to  renounce 
Somerset ! 

"  Alas  !  then,  dear  Edgar,"  cried  she,  "  what  re- 
mains for  me  to  do,  but,  with  my  pity,  to  offer  up 


213 

for  you  my  most  fervent  prayers  for  the  restoration, 
through  some  other  channel,  of  that  happiness,  which, 
even  if  I  had  still  the  power  to  confer,  I  could  no 
longer  participate ;  but  which  the  sweet  and  amiable 
creature  to  whom  you  are  about  to  be  connected  is 
equally  formed  to  bestow,  and  disposed  to  share  ! — • 
Heaven,  then,  bless  and  teach  you  how  to  estimate 
her  value,  and  return  her  innocent  affection !" 


CHAPTER  XXVI. 

AT  breakfast  the  next  morning,  when  she  met 
Somerset,  her  languor,  and  the  heaviness  of  her  eyes 
alarmed  and  grieved  him :  he  had  no  opportunity  of 
speaking  to  her  alone,  earnestly  as  he  wished  it ;  but 
hearing  she  had  been  prevailed  upon  to  remain  with 
her  friends  till  the  succeeding  day,  put  into  her  hands, 
just  before  he  went  home  to  dress  for  dinner,  the 
following  billet  written  with  a  pencil  at  the  window  ; 

"  In  my  way  hither  this  morning,  I  accidentally 
met  with  Mr.  Lenham  :— Anxious  to  hear  some  ac- 
count of  his  unhappy  friend,  I  took  him  with  me  into 
a  coffee-house,  where  we  had  a  long  and  interesting 
conversation.  Be  not  so  painfully  distressed,  my  be- 
loved Clarentine  : — poor  Delmington,  great  as  was 
his  agitation  on  first  seeing  you,  still  possesses  a 
fortitude  and  manly  strength  of  mind,  which  will  ena- 
ble him,  after  this  trying  interview,  to  meet  you  upon 
every  succeeding  one  with  firmness  and  courage.  He 
knew  not,  till  Eltham,  informed  of  it  by  some  third 
person  at  the  Opera,  announced  it  to  him,  the  happi- 
ness I  have  in  view  ;  the  intelligence,  at  first,  startled 
and  confounded  him  ;  but  upon  the  whole,  has  been 
of  infinite  service  in  determining  him  more  resolutely 


214 

than  ever  to  banish  from  his  mind  every  sentiment 
for  you  that  partakes  of  more  than  fraternal  warmth. 
Revive  then,  sweetest  Clarentine,  and  suffer  not  the 
soft  compassion  you  feel  for  him,  at  a  moment  like 
the  present,  to  supersede  all  the  other  affections  of 
your  heart !  The  deep  concern  with  which  your  own 
sorrow  has  filled  me  entitles  me  to  nearly  as  much 
pity  as  you  have  bestowed  upon — I  had  almost  called 
him — the  enviable  Edgar  !" 

With  such  a  motive  to  overcome  her  dejection  as 
the  fear  of  making  her  generous  Somerset  unhappy, 
Clarentine  found  it  no  difficult  task,  when  he  again 
appeared,  to  meet  him  with  all  her  wonted  cheerful- 
ness and  composure.  The  caution  contained  in  his 
note,  delicate  as  it  was,  put  her  upon  her  guard,  and 
proved  to  her,  that  however  distant  from  his  mind 
all  jealous  mistrust  now  was,  he  could  not  answer 
for  the  continuance  of  his  serenity  should  her  anxi- 
ety and  melancholy  continue  also. 

The  third  person  alluded  to  as  Eltham's  informant 
at  the  Opera,  she  had  not  a  doubt  was  Mr.  Manners. 
His  raillery  and  former  archness  had  almost  wholly 
ceased,  and  been  replaced  by  a  respectful  quietness, 
or  a  general  vivacity,  which,  as  it  had  never,  except 
once  the  night  before,  (upon  occasion  of  his  abrupt 
dismission  the  morning  l\e  had  called  at  Hampstead) 
given  way  to  his  natural  love  of  tormenting,  convin- 
ced her  he  was  perfectly  acquainted  with  the  present 
situation  of  her  affairs. 

Early  the  next  morning,  Clarentine  would  have  re- 
turned home,  but  Miss  Manners,  encouraged  by  her 
first  success,  besought  her  so  earnestly  to  defer  her 
departure  till  evening,  that  at  length  she  consented  : 
and  with  yet  less  difficulty,  a  quarter  of  an  hour  after- 
wards, agreed  to  accompany  her,  attended  by  her 
brother,  to  the  Shakspeare  Gallery  ;  Somerset  was  to 
be  engaged  the  greatest  part  of  the  day  upon  some 
professional  business  ;  and  Mrs,  Manners,  expecting 
visitors,  declined  being  of  their  party. 


215 

Soon  after  breakfast  therefore  they  set  out  on  foot, 
the  weather  being  favourable,  and  had  nearly  reach-» 
ed  the  middle  of  Pail-Mall,  when,  coming  out  of  a 
bookseller's  shop  alone,  and  with  a  countenance, 
which,  though  not  more  animated,  was  infinitely  less 
perturbed  than  when  Clarentine  had  last  seen  him, 
they  were  met,  and  immediately  recognised  by  Sir 
Edgar  Delmington. 

Changing  colour  as  he  addressed  them,  yet  strug- 
gling to  appear  at  his  ease,  he  stopped  a  few  minutes 
to  make  some  general  enquiries,  and  was  then  taking 
his  leave  ;  l^ut  Miss  Manners,  whispering  Clarentine, 
said — "  Why  don't  you  ask  him  to  go  with  us  ?" 

"  Shall  I  tell  him  you  desire  it  ?"  returned  she, 
smiling. 

"  Yes,  if  you  like  it ;  I  have  no  sort  of  objection.'' 

"  Why  then.  Sir  Edgar,"  cried  Clarentine,  turn- 
ing towards  him  with  the  same  look  of  cheerfulness 
— "  I  -am  commissioned  to  request,  in  the  name  of 
this  young  lady,  whom  I  beg  to  introduce  to  you — 
Miss  Manners — that  you  will  favour  us  with  your 
attendance  to  the  Shakspeare  Gallery." 

"  Most  willingly  ;"  replied  he,  brightening  at  the 
proposal,  "  I  ventured  not  to  enquire  whither  you 
were  going,  but  be  assured,  my  desire  of  accompa- 
nying you  preceded  the  honour  you  have  done  me  in 
permitting  it." 

They  then  all  moved  on,  Miss  Manners  saying  to 
Clarentine  as  they  advanced — ."  I  think  your  solemn 
friend  improves  ;  that  was  really  a  much  prettier 
speech  than  I  expected  from  him." 

♦*  Probably,"  returned  Clarentine,  "  your  goodness 
to  him  put  him  into  spirits." 

Miss  Manners  made  some  slight  answer  to  this, 
which  her  companion  had  not  time  to  attend  to,  for 
just  then  they  arrived  at  the  door  of  the  Gallery. 

After  they  had  wandered  about  the  room  some 
time,  Sir  Edgar,  approaching  Clarentine,  who,  with 
a  catalogue  in  her  hand,  was  sitting  upon  a  form  op- 


216 

posite  one  of  the  gi-eat  pictures,  reading  the  scene 
from  whence  its  subject  was  taken,  placed  himself 
next  her,  and  said,  "Has  Miss  Delmington  any 
message,  any  letter  to  send  into  Devonshire  ?  We 
leave  town  to-morrow." 

"  No  letter,"  replied  she,  "  for  I  wrote  very  late- 
ly ;  but  a  thousand  kind  messages,  to  our  dear  So- 
phia in  particular." 

Then  pausing  a  moment,  and  thinking  there  would 
be  a  species  of  affectation  in  so  manifestly  avoiding 
to  mention  Lady  Julia,  she  presently  added,  "  And 
to  Lady  Julia  Leyburne  likewise,  when  you  see  her." 

Sir  Edgar  suppressed  a  sigh,  and,  after  a  short 
silence,  said,  "  Have  you  written  to  Lady  Julia  also 
lately  ?  or  shall  I  be  the  first  to  announce  to  her  the 
reports  that  are  circulated  concerning  you  ?" 

Clarentine  blushed,  but  affecting  to  speak  with 
gaiety,  replied,  "  Till  Lady  Julia  can  repay  me  by 
some  similar  intelligence,  she  might  accuse  me  of 
designing  indirectly  to  reproach  her  for  her  cruelty, 
were  I  to  speak  too  early  of  my  own"— She  hesita- 
ted for  a  word  that  would  with  propriety  express  her 
meaning,  but  finding  none  that  she  liked,  blushed 
yet  deeper  than  before,  and  heartily  repented  having 
gone  so  far. 

Sir  Edgar,  fancying  he  had  interpreted  that  mean- 
ing, supplied  the  deficiency  for  her.  "  Of  your  own 
tenderness  ?"  said  he — "  Was  not  that  what  you 
would  have  added?  Oh,  dearest  Miss  Delmington, 
may  that  tenderness,  deservedly  as  I  hope  it  is  be- 
stowed, be  but  as  fervently,  as  gratefully  returned, 
as  it  must  involuntarily  be  envied" — he  stopped,  his 
eyes  glistened  ;  Clarentine,  too,  felt  her's  fill  with 
tears,  and  was  compelled  to  turn  away  her  head  ;  re- 
covering more  firmness,  however,  he  at  length  added 
— "  Pardon  me,  most  gentle,  most  beloved  of  human 
beings  ! — This  is  not  language  in  which  I  ought  now 
— I  ought  ever^  distinct  as  were  our  sentiments,  to 


217 

have  adressed  you  !  It  is  the  last  time  I  will  per- 
mit myself  to  hold  it ;  but  your  own  softness,  and  the 
angelic  compassion  you  have  shewn  me,  drew  it  from 
me  !  When  next  we  meet,  to  utter  it  would  be  cri- 
minal :  suffer  me,  therefore,  as  a  relief  to  my  burst- 
ing heart,  this  one — this  only — " 

"  No,  no,"  interrupted  Clarentine,  though  not  with 
anger,  yet  with  seriousness,  "  You  have  said  more 
already  than,  situated  as  we  mutually  are,  I  ought  to 
have  allowed.  From  this  moment.  Sir  Edgar,  we 
see  each  other,  we  converse,  but  as  brother  and  as 
sister,  or  we  see  each  other,  we  converse,  no  more  !" 
"  I  submit  to  your  terms,"  cried  he  ;  "  they  are 
those  which,  from  this  day  forward,  I  meant  strictly 
to  observe.  Too  long,  dear  Clarentine,  have  I  been 
inured  to  the  painful  task  of  self-restaint,  to  distrust 
the  success  with  which  I  shall  in  future  practise  it. 
I  have  known  every  degree  of  wretchedness,  borne 
every  species  of  torment,  which  doubt,  the  appre- 
hension of  detection,  and  the  pangs  of  disappoint- 
ment, could  inflict — borne  them,  though  not  with 
unremitting,  yet  with  general  fortitude  !  If,  at  so 
early  a  period  I  could  do  this— suffer,  yet  dissemble 
— smile,  yet  be  in  anguish — ah,  need  you  fear  the 
courage  I  shall  now  exert ! — A  youth  of  sorrow  should 
make  an  old  age  of  philosophy:  who  knows,"  added 
he,  forcing  a  melancholy  smile,  "  what  your  Edgar 
may  one  day  become  ?" 

"  He  will  become,"  cried  Clarentine,  turning  to- 
wards him  with  earnestness  and  (no  one  being  by) 
giving  him  her  hand—"  he  will  become,  I  doubt  not, 
as  happy  as  with  worth,  honour,  and  integrity,  such 
as  he  possesses,  he  deserves  to  be  !  You  have  a  dis- 
position, dear  Edgar,  formed  for  domestic  felicitv — 
cultivate  your  natural  love  for  it ;  attach  yourself  to 
those  you  live  with,  and  above  all,  cherish  and  be 
kind  to  the  affectionate  and  lovely  partner  whom  you 
are  destined  to  spend  your  life  with." 

Vol.  II.  T 


218 

"  Dearest  Clarentine,"  cried  he,  penetrated  by  her 
kindness,  and  pressing  to  his  bosom  the  hand  he  held, 
^'  how  does  this  friendship,  and  the  interest  concern- 
ing me  you  so  generously  express,  soothe  and  console 
me  !  Yes,  best  of  women  !  I  will  be  all  your  excel- 
lent heart  can  wish !  She  who  has  been  chosen  for 
me,  I  will  seek  to  deserve  and  render  happy :  the  du- 
ties, whether  public  or  private,  that  may  in  the  course 
of  my  future  life  be  imposed  upon  me,  I  will  en- 
deavour to  fulfil  with  exactitude  and  spirit :  you  shall 
be  my  secret  guide,  the  unknown  spring  of  all  my 
actions  :  your  friendly  smile  shall  reward,  your  appro- 
bation stimulate  my  exertions  ;  and  whatever  may  be 
my  fate,  or  my  success,  Clarentine  never  shall  have 
cause  to  blush  for  the  voluntary  errors  of  the  friend 
of  her  infancy — the  imperfect  copy,  but  the  faithful 
reverencer  of  her  virtues  ?" 

He  then,  seeing  her  too  much  affected  to  be  able  to 
speak,  kissed  her  hand,  with  an  expression  that  equal- 
ly partook  of  tenderness  and  respect,  and  hastened 
out  of  the  room. 

Though  cheered  by  his  fair  promises,  Clarentine 
was  yet  so  sensibly  touched  by  all  that  had  passed, 
that  she  remained  after  he  had  left  her,  motionless 
and  in  tears,  forgetting  where  she  was,  till  roused  by 
the  re-entrance,  from  an  adjoining  room,  of  Mr.  and 
Miss  Manners. 

"  What!  is  our  young  Sir  Dolorous  gone  ?"  cried 
the  latter,  gaily  approaching  her — Clarentine  rising 
and  walking  towards  one  of  the  pictures,  in  a  low 
voice  answered  in  the  affirmative,  without  venturing 
to  look  round. 

Miss  Manners,  perfectly  content,  thought  of  him 
no  more,  but  the  next  minute  began  talking  of  other 
subjects,  criticising  the  dress  and  appearance  of 
every  new  comer,  admiring  the  different  paintings, 
yet  scarcely  looking  at  any  one  of  them  two  minutes 
together,  forming  schemes  of  pleasure  for  the  next 


219 

iiay,  reproaching  Clarentine  for  not  staying  with  them 
longer,  and  wondering  what  her  mother  would  find 
to  say  to  all  the  stupid  quizzes  who  were  that  morn- 
ing to  call  upon  her. 

This  thoughtless  rattle  relieved  Clarentine,  and 
gave  her  time  to  recover  her  usual  tranquillity.  They 
remained  in  the  Gallery  till  a  late  hour,  Miss  Man- 
ners protesting  she  would  not  go  home  whilst  there 
was  any  chance  of  finding  the  quizzes  there,  and  then 
walked  back   to  Albemarle-street. 

Somerset,  released  from  his  morning  engagement, 
called  in  soon  after  dinner,  and  when  Clarentine  took 
her  leave,  w^ould  not  be  denied  the  satisfaction  of  at- 
tending her  home. 

In  their  w^ay  to  Hampstead,  she  acknowledged  to 
him,  with  the  ingenuous  frankness  that  characterised 
her  disposition,  the  meeting  of  the  morning,  and  re- 
peated to  him  the  honourable  assm-ances  Sir  Edgar 
had  given  her,  as  well  with  regard  to  his  future  con- 
duct, as  to  the  sentiments  with  which  hereafter  he 
designed  to  meet  her. 

Somerset,  with  a  heart  so  well  formed  to  feel  the 
value  of  this  confidence  and  candour,  expressed  his 
gratitude  in  the  most  animated  terms,  and  joined  with 
her  in  uttering  the  sincerest  good  wishes  for  the  re- 
turning peace  of  mind  of  one  whom  he  knew  was  so 
justly  dear  to  her. 

"  As  for  Mr.  Eltham,"  added  he,  with  a  smile, 
"the  pride  and  resentment  which  your  rejection  oc- 
casioned, has,  I  plainly  perceive,  cured  him  complete- 
ly. Sir  Edgar's  self-conquest  is  solely  the  result  of 
effort  and  principle — his  is  the  effect  of  indignation. 
He  speaks  of  you  with  extreme  respect,  but  at  the 
same  time  with  a  certain  air  of  hauteur  which  amuses 
me  extremely,  and  which,  as  it  proved  to  me  that  his 
angry  heart  was  but  a  secondary  sufferer  in  the  bu- 
siness, amused  me  also  without  scruple." 

"  1  have  some  design,"  cried  Clarentine,  with  af- 


220 

iected  gravity,  "  to  make  an  experiment  of  this  kind 
upon  you  ;  I  should  be  curious  to  know,  upon  being 
discarded,  which  would  predominate  in  your  mind, 
anger  or  sorrow." 

"  Oh,  my  beloved  Clarentine,"  cried  he,  snatching 
her  hand,  "  start  not  such  an  idea  to  my  affrighted 
imagination  !  I  cannot  bear  it  even  in  raillery  !" 

Clarentine  drew  away  her  hand,  and  with  a  laugh, 
said — "  If  you  are  so  susceptible  of  a  little  irony,  Mr. 
Somerset,  what  would  you  have  done  had  you  had 
such  a  gay  creature  as  Sophia  to  contend  with  ?" 

"  I  should  have  been  driven  to  distraction  ;  or  ra- 
ther, as  a  lover,  at  least,  I  never  should  have  contend- 
ed with  her  at  all.  The  mildness  and  sensibility  of 
my  Clarentine  suit  far  better  with  my  temper  than 
would  that  misplaced  wit,  which  sports  with  the  af- 
fections of  the  heart,  and  makes  a  jest  even  of  the 
most  serious  feelings." 

"  Ah,"  cried  Clarentine  earnestly,  "  if  such  is  the 
levity  of  nature  you  ascribe  to  Sophia,  you  wrong  her 
cruelly  !  In  the  first  place,  she  neither  aspires,  nor 
in  fact  possesses  any  claim  to  the  character  of  a  wit; 
and  in  the  next,  her  disposition  is  kindness  and  bene- 
volence itself.  Hers  is  all  harmless  and  innocent 
pleasure,  resulting  from  real  gaiety  of  heart,  and  as 
totally  unmixed  with  acrimony,  as  it  is  free  from  the 
most  distant  intention  of  offending." 

"  I  allow  her  every  excellence,"  said  Somerset, 
"  you  attribute  to  her,  and  yet,"  continued  he,  smil- 
ing, "  if  I  had  been  seriously  attached  to  her,  and 
she  had  treated  me  with  the  careless  volatility  with 
which,  whilst  at  Delmington,  I  often  saw  her  treat 
Mr.  Eltham,  I  much  doubt  whether,  like  him,  I  could 
with  patience  have  endured  it." 

"Yours  is  not  a  character,"  said  Clarentine,  "which 
like  his  would  have  called  that  volatility  forth,  and 
therefore  upon  you  it  would  never  have  been  tried  ; 
it  suits  Mr.  Eltham,  however,  exactly,  and  by  amus- 


221 

ing,  will  contribute  to  attach  him  with  far  more  con- 
stancy than  a  disposition  less  airy  and  less  spirited 
could  have  any  chance  of  doing." 

She  then  gave  a  different  turn  to  the  conversation, 
and  soon  after  they  stopped  at  Mr.  Lenham's. 

The  answer  which  Somerset  expected  with  so 
much  impatience  from  Lady  Delmington,  arrived  at 
his  house  in  town  early  on  the  fifth  day  after  he  had 
written  to  her.  He  was  at  Hampstead  when  it  was 
delivered,  but  having  left  orders  that  whatever  letters 
came  for  him  in  his  absence  should  -mmediately  be 
brought  after  him,  one  of  his  servants  rode  thither 
with  it  full  speed,  and  alighted  at  Mr.  Lenham's  gate 
just  as  he  and  Clarentine  were  walking  up  to  it,  on 
their  return  from  a  morning  visit  they  had  been  mak- 
ing to  Mrs.  Denbigh. 

Joy,  hope,  and  rapture,  animated  the  eyes  of  So- 
merset, and  brightened  his  whole  countenance  as  he 
received  and  looked  at  the  welcome  post-mark  of  this 
most  ardently  desired  letter.  Clarentine  observed  his 
emotion,  and  by  a  quick  glance  at  the  direction,  ob- 
serving likev/ise  whose  was  the  hand  that  had  writ- 
ten it,  silently  withdrew  her  arm  from  within  his,  and 
all  consciousness  and  emotion  in  her  turn,  walked 
hastily  into  the  house. 

In  a  few  minutes,  Somerset,  with  unabated  exta- 
sy,  followed  her.  She  had  taken  refuge  in  Mr.  Len- 
ham's study,  which  at  tiiat  hour  of  the  day,  he  being 
engaged  with  his  pupils,  was  almost  always  empty, 
and  was  there  traversing  the  floor  with  agitated  steps, 
when  he  entered  and  flew  to  her — 

"  Oh,  now!"  cried  he,  seizing  her  hand  and  press- 
ing it  with  fervour  to  his  lips,  "  Oh,  now,  best  be- 
loved of  my  heart,  I  may  indeed  call  you  my  own, 
my  ever  destined  Clarentine !  All  suspenses  at  an 
end,  all  doubts,  all  fears  eternally  removed,  you  are 
mine  for  life,  irrevocably  and  solely  mine!  Read, 
dearest  of  creatures,  read  and  confirm  to  me  by  one 
T2  ^ 


222 

kind  look  the  transporting  contents  of  this  enchanting 
letter !  You  said  that  upon  these  contents  my  fate 
should  depend  ;  ratify  that  promise,  and  tell  me  you 
are  all  my  own  !" 

Gently  disengaging  herself  from  his  hold,  deeply 
blushing,  yet  attempting  to  laugh  at  his  earnestness 
and  unwonted  impetuosity,  Clarentine  took  the  letter, 
and  moving  towards  a  chair,  sat  down  to  read  it,  So- 
merset placing  himself  next  her. 

The  consent  for  which  Lady  Delmington  had  been 
solicited  was  granted,  she  found,  with  the  readiest 
alacrity,  and  the  good  wishes  and  felicitations  to  both 
parties  which  followed  it  were  cordial  and  animated. 
The  letter,  however,  was  short  though  satisfactory, 
and  ingeniously  as  Clarentine  sought  to  gain  time  by- 
prolonging  its  perusal,  she  was  at  length  compelled 
to  own  she  had  concluded  it,  and  obliged  to  answer 
his  eager  supplications— 

"  What  can  I  say  to  you,  Mr.  Somerset  ?"  cried 
she,  hesitating  and  embarrassed.  "  You  do  not  sus- 
pect me  of  designing  to  recal  the  word  I  so  lately 
passed  ?  Why  then  press  me  to  speak?  what  would 
you  have  me  add?" 

"  That  you  will  now,"  answered  he,  with  warmth, 
"  receive  my  faith  immediately ;  no  one  obstacle 
stands  between  us,  but  w^hoUy  on  your  decision  and 
on  your  mercy  rests  my  hopes !" 

Clarentine,  abashed  and  hesitating,  still  hung  back^ 
and  still  evaded  fixing  any  positive  time,  till  Somer- 
set, no  longer  able  to  command  his  impatience,  na- 
med himself  so  very  early  a  period,  that,  rather  than 
permit  him,  by  her  silence,  to  conclude  the  proposal 
met  with  her  concurrence,  she  was  forced  herself  to 
decide  upon  the  last  day  of  the  following  week. 

This  concession  gained,  he  then  left  her,  all  grati- 
tude and  delight,  and  hastened  back  to  town  in  order 
immediately  to  set  on  foot  the  necessary  preparations 
for  their  marriage. 


223 


CHAPTER  XXVII. 

THREJE  days  after  this  arrangement  had  been 
made,  Clarentine  was  much  surprised  again.to  receive 
a  letter  from  Sophia — 

TO  MISS  DELMINGTON. 

Delmington-House,  February  27. 

"  When  I  sent  off  my  last  letter,  I  concluded  that 
as  we  were  to  meet  so  soon,  nothing  was  likely  to  oc- 
cur that  could  make  me  desirous  of  writing  again  ;  I 
was  mistaken,  however,  as  upon  a  thousand  occasions 
has  happened  to  me  before,  and  I  feel  that  I  must  ei- 
ther once  more  relieve  my  mind  by  a  little  literary 
prosing^  or  be  accessary  myself  to  its  going  wild. 

"  Our  two  wanderers,  Edgar  and  his  friend,  re- 
turned to  us  yesterday  ;  Heaven  only  knows  xvhy  they 
ever  left  us  ;  Mr.  Eltham  said  it  was  to  make  some 
indispensible  arrangements  previous  to  a  certain 
event,  and  Edgar  assured  us  it  was  merely  to  bear 
him  company.  It  is  as  well  to  seem  credulous  when 
people  take  pains  to  deceive  you,  and  so,  when  they 
are  by,  I  appear  all  faith  and  trust;  but  to  speak  ho- 
nestly, my  own  private  opinion  is,  that  they  went  for 
no  other  purpose  than — to  go  to  the  Opera  I — Strange 
that  two  rational  creatures  should  travel  so  many 
miles  upon  such  an  errand!  So  it  is,  however,  and  to 
the  opera  they  both  hastened  the  very  first  night  of 
their  arrival. 

"  There  is  a  mild  and  gentle  being  in  the  world, 
whom  you  have  occasionally  heard  me  mention  by 
the  name  of  Clarentine  Delmington,  who  not  an  hun- 
dred years  ago,  was  an  object  of  nearly  equal  adora- 
tion to  both  these  operatical  adventurers.  With  this 
fair  creature,  this  perfect  semblance  of  xvliite-robed 


224 

mni?c^A2c^— speaking  soft  and  smiling  sweet they 

met,  on  their  way  to  some  room  or  other  adjoining  to 
the  theatre.  Their  feelings  upon  the  occasion  were 
rather  awkward,  since,  in  addition  to  the  emotion 
which  her  sudden  appearance  excited,  they  had  the 
pangs  of  envy  to  contend  with  ;  for  this  lovely  dam- 
sel, so  relentless  and  so  inexorable  unto  them^  was 
leaning  with  looks  of  cordial  satisfaction,  upon  the 
arm  of  another  man,  which  other  man  they  had  but 
too  much  reason  to  suspect  was  their  favoured  suc- 
cessor ! 

"  O,  what  a  treat  it  would  have  been  to  me  to  have 
seen  this  matchless  triumvirate  at  the  moment  their 
eyes  first  met !  I  except  poor  Edgar,  hoAvever ;  it 
would  have  given  me  nothing  but  concern  to  have 
witnessed  the  pain  which  he,  I  doubt  not,  felt  :  but 
as  for  Messrs.  Eltham  and  Somerset,  their  counte- 
nances I  think  must  have  been  delightful.  To  have 
pitied  either  would  have  been  a  farce  ;  one  was  upon 
the  point  of  marriage  with  the  chosen  mistress  of  his 

hearth and  the  other,  we  must  all  allow,  was  in  a 

yet  more  enviable  situation,  being  engaged  to  such  a 
Phoenix  as  your  Sophia.  Besides,  Eltham,  when  he 
mentioned  the  circumstance,  did  it  with  an  air  so  ea- 
sy and  unembarrassed,  that  I  venture  to  fiatt'jr  my- 
self it  made  but  little  impression  upon  his  mind :  he 
met  me  not  afterwards  with  one  atom  Kss  vivacity 
or  good  humour,  and  appears  not  in  ihe  slightest  de- 
gree more  thoughtful  or  more  depressed.  All  there- 
fore that  his  aspect  testified,  I  imagine,  was  surprise, 
mixed  perhaps  with  a  trifling  expression  of  offended 
self-consequence.  The  poor  gentleman  is  still  a  lit- 
tle splenetic,  I  assure  you,  when  that  horrible  word 
rejection  comes  across  his  mind !  How  scon  he  means 
cordially  to  forgive  you  1  know  not;  he  seems  more 
disposed  towards  it,  however,  than  I  once  thought  he 
ever  would  be ;  and  therefore  I  am  not  v;ithout  hopes, 
that  when  we  all  meet  I  shall  persuade  him  to  take 


225 

you  by  the  hand  and  ask  you  to  be  friends  with  him  : 
pray  do  not  refuse  him,  if  you  still  mean  to  continue 
friends  with  ?;zc. 

"  As  for  Edgar  (who,  by  the  way,  my  mother  has 
no  suspicion  of  your  having  seen)  he  never  speaks 
of  you  without  the  extremest  veneration  and  grati- 
tude. We  have  had  a  long  conference  together  con- 
cerning you,  and  he  tells  me  that  your  behaviour  to 
him  was  truly  that  of  an  angel !  Dearest  girl,  how 
do  I  love  you  for  your  sweetness  and  sympathy  to 
this  best  of  brothers !  It  has  calmed  his  agitated 
mind,  and  been  balm  to  his  wounded  heart.  You 
have  promised  him,  he  says,  your  future  friendship, 
your  sisterly  friendship ;  you  wept  over  the  too 
faithful  picture  he  drew  of  his  long  sufferings  ;  you 
spoke  peace  and  affection  to  him — and  with  the  kind- 
est advice,  uttered  the  most  benevolent  gootj.  wishes! 
Excellent  and  considerate  Clarentine !  never  can  I 
sufficiently  thank  you  for  a  softness  so  well  timed,  a 
tenderness  that  has  been  so  beneficial ! 

"  Rejoicing  that  this  first  meeting  is  over,  he  now 
assures  me,  that,  although  he  can  never  see  you  with 
indifference,  he  shall  henceforward  see  you  without 
any  of  those  tumultuous  sensations  which  at  that 
moment  so  nearly  overpowered  him.  I  sincerely 
hope  his  prediction  will  be  verified  ;  but,  meanwhile, 
cannot  help  feeling  rather  disposed  to  bear  him  a  lit- 
tle malice  for  having  hitherto  so  completely  deceiv- 
ed me  :  I  really  thought  him  thoroughly  recovered, 
for  his  behaviour  to  Lady  Julia  this  whole  winter 
has  uniformly  been  so  attentive,  her  own  gentleness 
leads  him  always  to  address  her  with  such  softness, 
and  he  feels  for  her,  I  am  convinced,  so  much  inter- 
est and  regard,  that  it  seem  to  me  impossible  he 
should  at  the  same  time  harbour  such  an  ardent  af- 
fection for  another  object.  I  suppose,  however,  his 
heart  is  very  capacious  as  well  as  Mr.  Eltham's  ;  I 
am  certain,  at  least,  it  is  very  difficult  to  read. 


"  I  say  nothing  to  you,  my  beloved  Clarentine,  of 
the  letter  my  mother  lately  received  from  Mr.  So- 
merset. The  idea  of  next  Tuesday  puts  me  in  such 
a  fright  for  myself,  I  have  no  courage  to  speaks  of 
the  approaching  fright  which  likewise  awaits  you. 
Lady  Julia  is  so  generous  as  to  laugh  at  my  dismay  ; 
her  own  turn,  however,  will  come  next  September, 
and  then  I  hope  to  have  gained  spirits  to  retaliate 
the  favour  in  kind. 

"  Mrs.  Harrington  has  at  length  vouchsafed  to  an- 
swer my  mother's  letter,  and  to  answer  it,  also,  with 
far  greater  civility  to  our  friend  Eltham  than  I  ex- 
pected. His  near  relationship  to  Lord  Welwyn,  whose 
title  she  respects  infinitely  more  than  his  character ; 
and  his  splendid  fortune,  which  beyond  even  title  it- 
self she  reveres,  induce  her  to  silence  every  objec- 
tion she  would  otherwise,  I  am  persuaded,  make  to 
the  man^imself,  and  courteously  to  congratulate  my 
mother  upon  Sophia's  good  luck. 

"  Where  shall  you  be,  dearest  Clarentine,  the 
eighth  of  next  month  ?  On  that  day  we  all  expect  to 
be  in  town.  Lord  Welwyn  having  consented,  at  his 
daughter's  earnest  request  and  mine,  to  set  out  at 
the  same  time  Mr.  Eltham  and  I  do.  Impatient  as 
I  shall  be  to  see  you,  let  me  hope  you  will  not,  be- 
fore then,  have  left  the  neighbourhood  of  London  to 
ramble  to  any  very  formidable  distance  with  your 
new  pilot ;  tell  him  I  shall  be  extremely  angry  with 
him  if  he  steers  his  lovely  prize  into  any  remote  har- 
bour, and  that  he  may  expect  a  whole  fleet  to  be  sent 
after  him  to  win  her  back  again. 

"  Do  I  talk  good  seaman's  language  ?  Ask  him, 
dear  Clarentine,  and  when  he  has  answered  you,  cast 
your  eyes  once  more  upon  this  paper,  and  give  me 
due  credit  for  the  sincerity  with  which  I  subscribe 
myself, 

"  Your's  most  aflfectionately,  and  truly, 

"  S.  Delmington." 


227 

Previous  to  the  receipt  of  this  letter,  it  had  been 
agreed  between  Clarentine  and  Somerset,  that  imme- 
diately on  their  marriage  they  should  go  down  to  his 
seat  in  Northamptonshire.  This  plan  they  still  ad- 
hered to,  determining,  however,  to  make  their  ab- 
sence much  shorter  than  was  originally  intended,  for 
the  pleasure  of  meeting  sooner  with  the  friends  whom 
they  expected,  and  on  whose  account  they  now  de- 
cided to  hasten  back  to  town  before  the  expiration  of 
a  week. 

Their  deliberation  upon  this  subject  was  scarcely 
concluded,  when  Miss  Barclay  entered  followed  by 
one  of  the  maids,  who,  with  a  broad  grin  upon  her 
lace,  delivered  to  Clarentine  a  card  saying,  "  Mrs. 
Manners's  footman.  Miss,  has  just  brought  that  for 
you." 

Clarentine,  wondering  at  her  risibility,  held  out 
her  hand  for  it  and  read  aloud — 

Mrs.  Manners, 

At  Home, 

Thursday,  March  4th, 

9  o'clock.  >•%' 

'^  At  home  V  repeated  the  unpractised  Clarentine, 
"  and  what  then  ?" 

"  Lord," exclaimed  Miss  Barclay,  contemptuously, 
"  don't  you  understand  what  then  ?  Why,  she  means 
to  invite  you  to  some  party  on  Thursday." 

"•  Aye,  Miss,  it's  true  enough,"  cried  the  maid, 
who,  accustomed  to  be  treated  by  Miss  Barclay  with 
extreme  familiarity,  made  no  scruple  when  she  was 
present,  of  ehaving  with  equal  freedom  herself,  "  for 
I  asked  the  servant  about  it,  and  he  told  me  Madam 
was  to  have  a  grand  rout  that  day.  For  my  part,  I 
thought,  maybe  she  had  been  to  have  come  here,  and 
so,  not  being  well,  had  sent  you  that,  to  let  you  know 
she  should  stav  at  home,''- 


228 

Then,  still  laughing  heartily  at  the  odd  conceit^  she 
left  the  room. 

Clarentine  now  turning  to  Somerset,  said — "  I  am 
ashamed  of  betraying  such  rustic  ignorance,  but  do 
pray  tell  me,  is  this  really  meant  as  an  invitation  V 

"  Yes,  really,"  answered  he  smiling. 

"  And  are  the  guests  never  told  what  they  are  in- 
vited to  ?  Whether  to  a  ball,  a  card  party,  or  a  con- 
cert ?" 

"  Dear,  no  ;"  cried  Miss  Barclay,  "  its  taken  for 
granted  one  hears  all  that  before  one  goes,  among 
one's  acquaintance." 

"  But  what,"  resumed  Clarentine,  "  are  those  to 
do,  who  like  me  have  no  acquaintance  r" 

"  Why  take  their  chance,  and  prepare  themselves 
accordingly." 

"  How  prepare  themselves  ?" 

"  Lord,  why  by  carrying  money  in  their  pockets 
that  they  may  be  ready  to  play  if  asked,  and  by  put- 
ting on  light  shoes  that  they  may  be  equally  ready 
to  dance." 

"  Thank  you,"  cried  Clarentine,  bowing,  "  these 
instructions  may  be  extremely  useful  to  me." 

"  You  mean  to  go  then?"  said  Somerset. 

"  If  I  knew  any  lady  I  could  go  with,  I  should 
certainly." 

"  Oh,  if  it  depends  only  upon  that,"  cried  Miss 
Barclay,  "  /  should  like  to  accompany  you  of  all 
things." 

Clarentine  looked  a  little  disconcerted,  and  Somer- 
set hastily  rising,  walked  to  the  chimney. 

Miss  Barclay  thus  went  on — "  I'll  tell  you  what. 
Miss  Delmington,  you  have  but  to  write  a  bit  of  a 
note  to  Miss  Manners,  to  say  there's  a  young  lady 
lives  with  you  who  wishes  to  be  of  your  party,  and 
Captain  Somerset  can  send  it  to  her  when  he  goes 
back  to  town." 

**My  dear  Miss  Barclay,"  said  Clarentine  mildly. 


229 

"  you  would  not  wish,  I  am  sure,  any  more  than  my- 
self, to  make  your  appearance  at  a  great  assembly, 
such  as  I  presume  this  will  be,  without  some  married 
lady?" 

"  Perhaps  Mrs.  Denbigh  may  have  been  invited'; 
I'll  step  to  her  house  and  ask  her." 

Then  without  waiting  for  that  encouragt-ment 
she  saw  it  was  hopeless  to  expect,  she  ran  up 
stairs  for  her  cloak,  and  set  out  alone  for  Mrs. 
Denbigh's. 

Clarentine  and  Somerset  remained,  after  she  was 
gone,  looking  at  each  other  for  some  minutes  in 
silent,  yet  half-laughing  amazement,  at  an  ignorance 
of  the  world,  and  a  forwardness  at  once  so  conceited 
and  so  vulgar. 

Somerset  wasr  the  first  who  at  length  spoke — • 

"  Let  not  this  strange  proposal  distress  you,  my 
Clarentine,"  said  he,  "  I  shall  see  Manners  this  even- 
ing, and  will  commission  him  to  state  the  case  to  his 
mother  and  sister,  and  prepare  them  to  expect  your 
intruding  companion." 

"  Wait,  however,  till  she  returns,"  said  Clarentine, 
"  perhaps  Mrs.  Denbigh  may  not  be  going,  and  then 
I  shall  have  an  excellent  excuse  for  declining  the  in- 
vitation myself." 

In  less  than  a  quarter  of  an  hour  Miss  Barclay 
came  back,  calling  out  triumphantly  as  she  opened 
the  parlour  door,  "Well,  Mrs.  Denbigh  is  asked,  sure 
enough,  and  means  to  go  ;  so  now  therefore.  Miss 
Delmington,  you  have  nothing  to  do  but  to  write 
the  note  I  told  you  of.  Let  me  consider,''  added 
she,  sitting  down  and  looking  very  thoughtful,  "  next 
Thursday,  isn't  it  i'  Ay,  I  shall  have  time  enough 
to  get  my  new  gown  made,  and  Hannah  Gibson  pro- 
mised to  pin  me  up  a  cap  whenever  I  wanted  one." 

"  And  who  is  Hannah  Gibson,"  enquired  Claren- 
tine. 

Vol.  IL  U 


230 

"  Why,  she  was  a  school-fellow  of  mine,  but  her 
father  died  about  a  year  ago,  and  left  her  so  poor, 
she  has  bound  herself  'prentice  to  a  milliner  in  Cran- 
boum-alley.  You  can't  imagine  what  tasty  caps  I 
have  seen  of  her  making  ;  all  those  that  are  hung  in 
the  shop  window  are  mostly  what  she  did  up,  and 
every  body  admires  them  excessively.  If  you  like, 
I'll  ask  her  to  contrive  one  for  you." 

"  I  am  much  obliged  to  you,"  said  Clarentine, 
smiling,  "  but  I  beg  you  will  not  trouble  her." 

"  Dear,  she's  very  good  natured,  and  would  think 
it  no  trouble,  I  daresay;  however,  we  have  time 
enough  to  think  about  that — do  you  write  the  note 
now." 

••There  is  no  necessity  to  write  at  all  :  Mr.  So- 
merset has  undertaken  to  carry  a  verbal  message  to 
town,  which  will  do  quite  as  well." 

Miss  Barclay,  perfectly  satisfied  with  this  arrange- 
ment, then  left  them,  and  flew  to  the  head  of  the 
kitchen  stairs  to  order  one  of  the  maids  to  run  im- 
mediately for  the  mantua-maker. 

Somerset,  who  could  not  help  being  amused  by 
the  whole  affair,  and  particularly  by  the  obliging 
offer  that  had  been  made  to  Clarentine  of  applying  in 
her  behalf  to  the  ingenious  Hannah  Gibson,  staid 
only  to  remonstrate  with  her  upon  having  rejected 
such  assistance,  and  mounting  his  horse,  which  at 
that  moment  was  brought  to  the  door,  rode  back  to 
town. 

During  breakfast  the  next  morning,  Clarentine 
received  a  very  polite  note  from  Mrs.  and  M^ss 
Manners,  expressive  of  the"  pleasure  it  would  give 
them  to  see  her  friend,  and  inclosing  for  her  a  card 
similar  to  the  one  that  had  been  sent  the  day  before, 
which  they  requested  she  would  deliver  in  their 
names. 

Miss  Barclay,  whose  rage  to  be   introduced  into 


231 

fashionable  society  was  as  unbounded  as  her  qualifi- 
cations to  shine  in  it  were  deficient,  received  this 
invitation  with  equal  pride  and  rapture.  In  her 
own  opinion  secure  henceforward  of  moving  only  in 
the  most  elegant  circles,  she  enjoyed  already  in  an- 
ticipation the  envy  which  amongst  her  less  fortunate 
acquaintance  she  should  excite,  and  the  wonder 
which  she  doubted  not  to  inspire :  even  the  tasty 
Hannah  Gibson  she  now  began  to  think  unworthy  of 
the  honour  of  adorning  her  ;  and  recollecting  acci- 
dentally to  have  heard  the  fashions  of  Cranbourn- 
alley  a  little  derided,  resolved  to  bespeak  every  part 
©f  her  head-dress  upon  this  important  occasion  from 
the  more  modish  magazines  that  so  abundantly  sup- 
ply the  neighbourhood  of  Tavistock-street. 

With  this  determination,  as  soon  as  breakfast  was 
over,  she  walked  alone  to  town,  carrying  with  her, 
in  addition  to  what  remained  of  her  own  allowance, 
a  painfull  r-extorted  half-guinea,  the  reluctant  pro- 
duce of  her  mother's  bounty. 

On  her  return,  about  half  an  hour  before  dinner 
was  announced,  not  finding  Clarentine  in  the  parlour, 
she  ran  up  to  her  room  to  impart  to  her  the  success 
of  her  expedition. 

"  Lord,  how  comfortable  you  are  sitting  here," 
cried  she,  as  she  flung  open  the  door — "as  for  me,  I 
hav'nt  a  leg  to  stand  upon  ;  I  do  believe  I  hav'nt 
walked  less  than  eight  miles:  I  have  made  some 
excellent  bargains,  however,  and  have  bought  the 
sweetest  necklace  and  ear-rings  you  ever  saw  !  On- 
ly look,"  added  she,  taking  a  little  box  out  of  her 
pocket,  and  eagerly  displaying  its  contents,  "  what  a 
beautiful  colour  these  beads  are  ;  I  got  them  next 
door  to  where  I  went  about  my  cap — do  vou  like 
them?"  ^ 

"  I  dare  say," answered  Clarentine  evasively,  "they 
will  be  very  much  admired  ;  but  what  success  had 
you  with  regard  to  your  cap  ?" 


S32 

^'  O  dear,  I  did'nt  buy  any,  for  they  told  me  it 
would  be  much  better  to  choose  something  that  I 
could  pin  on  myself  in  the  way  of  a  fancy  turban  ; 
so  1  fixed  upon  a  spangled  gauze,  and  to-morrow  I 
am  to  have  some  very  smart  ornaments  sent  home  to 
wear  with  it." 

Clarentine  was  beginning  to  congratulate  lier  up- 
en  having  been  able  so  well  to  suit  her  taste,  when 
hastily  interrupting  her.  Miss  Barclay  said,  "  Now  I 
know  you  must  have  bought  a  great  many  new  things 
against  your  wedding  ;  do  let  me  see  some  of  them : 
what  do  you  intend  to  be  married  in  ?" 

"  Indeed,"  said  Clarentine,  colouring  and  half 
smiling,  ''I  have  not  yet  thought  about  it." 

"  No  ? — well  that's  the  oddest  thing  I  ever  heard 
of.  In  your  place  I  should  already  have  settled 
every  individual  article  I  meant  to  wear ;  to  be  sure, 
however,  you  intend  to  go  to  church  in  white  ?" 

To  this,  Clarentine,  not  very  desirous  of  dwelling 
upon  the  subject,  made  scJme  slight,  careless  answer, 
and  then  added,  "  Did  you  see  any  body  in  town 
whom  you  knew  ?" 

"  Yes,  I  saw  Mrs.  Hertford  driving  at  an  immense 
rate  along  Pall-Mali  in  a  dashing  new  chariot :  I 
wonder  whose  it  was,  and  why  she  never  let  me  know 
she  was  come  home." 

"  Ah,"  thought  Clarentine,  "  there  is  no  chance, 
I  hope,  of  her  making  any  advances  towards  a  renew- 
al of  her  former  intimacy  in  this  house,  whilst  So- 
merset visits  at  it  so  often,  and  I  continue  to  inhabit 
it." 

They  were  now  called  down  to  dinner,  and  an 
end  was  put  for  that  time  to  Miss  Barclay's  interro- 
gations. 

The  next  day,  however,  Clarentine  had  all  the 
fatigue  to  undergo  of  examining  and  praising  the 
tasteless  finery  she  had  bespoke,  and  which  (consist- 


233 

ing  of  gaudy  ribands,  shewy  flowers,  and  coloured 
gauzes)  arrived,  to  the  great  joy  of  the  impatient  ex- 
pectant, early  in  the  course  of  the  morning.  Her 
discourse,  throughout  the  whole  afternoon,  turned 
upon  nothing  but  the  most  fashionable  method  of  ar- 
ranging these  various  decorations  ;  and  so  completely 
did  she  even  surfeit  her  mother  upon  the  subject,  in- 
different as  she  generally  was  to  what  was  passing, 
that,  at  length,  exerting  an  unusual  degree  of  autho- 
rity, she  called  the  maid,  and  in  spite  of  all  Miss 
Lucy's  indignant  remonstrances,  very  peremptorily 
ordered  her  to  bundle  all  the  taxvdry  trumpery  \n\.o  a 
band-box  together,  and  hoist  with  it  up  stairs  di- 
rectly. 

Disagreeable  to  Clarentine  as  were  these  conten- 
tions, it  was  yet  a  relief  to  her  upon  the  present  oc- 
casion to  be  exempted  from  any  further  consulta- 
tions ;  and  the  more  so,  as  a  few  minutes  after  the 
removal  took  place,  Somerset  appeared  at  the  gate, 
and  entered  the  house. 


CHAPTER  XXVIII. 


THE  hour  at  length  arrived  so  ardently  desired 
by  Miss  Barclay,  and  so  gladly  hailed  by  Clarentine 
likewise,  (who  sickened  of  the  very  name  of  an  as- 
sembly, was  anxious  to  have  it  over)  when  thev  were 
informed  the  carriage  was  at  the  door  which  was  to 
convey  them  to  Albemarle-street ;  they  stopped  for 
Mrs.  Denbigh  in  their  way,  and  then  proceeded  im- 
mediately to  town. 

On  their  arrival  at  Mrs.   Manners's,  Somerset 
U2 


234 

hearing  their  names  announced,  hastened  out  to  meet 
them  at  the  head  of  the  stairs  ;  he  reproached  them 
for  being  so  late  (it  was  then  considerably  past  ten 
o'clock),  and  directing  them  where  to  find  Miss  Man- 
ners, after  they  had  spoken  to  her  mother  at  the  door, 
followed  them  across  the  room. 

The  reception  that  was  given  to  Miss  Barclay  in 
favour  of  the  persons  she  came  with,  was  extremely 
polite,  and  did  honour  to  the  considerate  good-na- 
ture with  which  Somerset  had  taken  the  trouble  to 
prepare  them  for  her  introduction  :  the  flaunting 
shewiness  of  her  dress  however,  particularly  when 
contrasted  with  that  of  her  companion,  which  was 
all  simplicity,  appeared  among  the  young  people  who 
surrounded  Miss  Manners  to  excite  a  mixture  of  sur- 
prise and  ridicule.  Some  shrugged  their  shoulders 
with  an  air  of  cold  contempt,  whilst  others,  after 
staring  at  her  from  head  to  foot  with  the  most  sted- 
fast  curiosity,  turned  upon  their  heel  with  a  half-stifled 
laugh,  and  tripped  away  to  communicate  their  sar- 
castic observations  to  a  different  party. 

To  all  this,  fortunately  for  her.  Miss  Barclay,  at 
the  height  of  her  ambition,  self-satisfied  and  elated, 
was  totally  insensible  ;  careless  what  the  women 
thought  of  her,  she  scarcely  noticed  any  of  them  ; 
but  at  the  approach  of  every  fresh  gentleman  w^ho 
addressed  Somerset,  her  heart  fluttered,  her  face  as- 
sumed a  complacent  smile,  and  in  the  hope  of  exci- 
ting attention  she  instantly  began  a  giggling  sort  of 
conversation  with  Clarentine,  which  lasted,  with  an 
afl"ectation  of  infantine  vivacity,  till,  one  by  one, 
they  again  retreated,  and  she  was  left  only  with  the 
ladies. 

Meanwhile  Mrs.  Denbigh,  seeing  them  provided 
with  seats  and  particularly  attended  to  by  Miss  Man- 
ners, who,  stationed  next  to  Clarentine,  scarcely  spoke 
to  any  one  else,  consented,  after  some  time,  to  sit 


235 

down  to  cards,  and  had  just  left  them  for  that  pur- 
pose, when  Mr.  Lea,  smihng  and  bowing  with  all  his 
wonted  courteousness,  approached  tkem — 

*'  This  animal,"  said  Miss  Manners,  in  a  hasty 
whisper  to  Clarentine  as  he  advanced,  ^'  has  taken  it 
into  his  head  to  marry  since  you  saw  him  ;  I  long  to 
know  which  is  his  wife." 

Then  turning  to  him — "  How  do  you  do,  my  dear 
Sir  ?"  cried  she  ;  "  I  hope  you  have  brought  Mrs. 
Lea  with  you  ?  In  what  part  of  the  room  am  I  to 
look  for  her?" 

Mr.  Lea,  in  answer  to  this,  touched  a  lady's  el- 
bow, who,  with  her  back  towards  them,  was  conver- 
sing with  a  group  of  gentlemen  at  some  distance,  and 
on  her  turning  half  round  said,  "  My  dear,  allow  me, 
this  is  Miss  Manners,"  and  taking  her  hand,  he  drew 
her  towards  them,  and  in  the  person  of  his  wife,  dis- 
covered to  the  half-petrified  Clarentine,  and  the  no 
less  wondering  Miss  Barclay,  the  form  and  features 
of  Mrs.  Hertford  ! 

"  Lord  !"  exclaimed  Lucy,  abruptly  addressing 
her,  "  is  it  you  ?  Well,  to  be  sure  you  have  got 
over  your  disappointment  pretty  quick  !  How  long 
have  you  been  married  ?  and  when  did  you  come  to 
town  ?" 

Mrs.  Hertford,  or  rather  Mrs.  Lea,  coloured,  but 
made  no  answer  to  these  blunt  enquiries,  contenting 
herself,  after  a  formal  curtsey  to  Miss  Manners,  who 
had  risen  at  her  approach,  to  bestow  upon  her  late 
confidant  a  slight  inclination  of  the  head  ;  and  then 
moving  away  again,  she  renewed  the  conversation 
her  husband  had  interrupted. 

"  Do  you  know  the  lady  r"  said  Miss  Manners  in 
a  low  voice  to  Lucy. 

"  Dear,  yes.  Madam,  I  have  known  her  ever  so 
long,  and  I  can't  imagine  why  she  would  not  speak 
to  me  ;  it's  very  impertinent,  I  must  say,  and  I  have 


236 

a  monstrous  mind  to  go  and  have  a  little  conversation 
with  her  about  it." 

"  No,  no,"  cried  Clarentine — "  for  Heaven's  sake 
do  not  think  of  it !" 

"  What  is  it  against  which  Miss  Delmington  is  so 
earnestly  remonstrating  ?"  said  Mr.  Manners,  who 
with  Somerset  just  then  walked  up  to  them. 

Clarentine,  terrified,  lest,  in  the  hearing  of  Mr. 
Lea,  who  still  kept  his  post  near  them.  Miss  Bar- 
clay should  blunder  out  any  untimely  explanation, 
was  upon  the  point  of  intreating  her  in  a  low  voice 
to  be  careful  of  what  she  said,  when  she  saw  her  sud- 
denly start  up,  and  as  Mrs.  Lea  was  crossing  the 
room  to  sit  down,  follow,  and  place  herself  next  her. 

Miss  Manners  laughed,  and  leaning  towards  Cla- 
rentine said,  "  Is  your  friend  going  to  quarrel  with 
the  poor  bride  ?" 

"  1  hope  not ;  but  indeed  it's  very  possible  ;  let 
me  intreat  you  to  go  with  me  into  the  next  room, 
for  I  could  not  bear  to  witness  any  scene  of  that 
sort." 

"  Dear  !  as  I  know  so  little  of  either  of  the  parties, 
such  a  battle  would  entertain  me  extremely  :  how- 
ever, I'll  go  wherever  you  like." 

So  saying  she  arose,  and  arm  in  arm  they  walked 
into  the  adjoining  apartment. 

Somerset  and  his  friend  followed  them,  and  the 
former  seizing  the  first  opportunity  of  speaking  to 
Clarentine  unheard,  said,  with  some  anxiety — 

"  What  drove  you  hither  with  such  precipitation?" 

She  explained  to  him  as  briefly  as  she  could  her 
reasons,  and  then  asked  him  whether  he  had  yet  seen 
or  spoken  to  Mrs.  Lea  herself? 

"No,"  answered  he  gravely,  "nor  do  I  wish  it." 

Miss  Manners  now  addressing  her  brother  said, 
"  Have  you  been  presented  to  Mr.  Lea's  pretty 
wife  ?" 


237 

"  Yes  ;  the  happy  bridegroom  did  me  that  honour 
yesterday  :  I  met  him  whilst  I  was  riding  out,  and 
he  insisted  upon  my  going  home  with  him  -i^olely  for 
that  purpose." 

u  Well  ?" 

"  Well — I  beheld,  admired,  bowed,  and  retreat- 
ed." 

"  Did  not  you  like  her  then  ?" 

"  /  had  more  reason  to  like  her  than  her  poor 
cringing  booby  of  a  mate,  for  at  the  same  time  that 
she  treated  him  with  the  most  ineffable  contempt, 
she  behaved  to  me  with  the  utmost  sweetness  and 
complacency." 

"  With  contempt  already !"  cried  Miss  Manners. 
"  Good  God,  then  why  did  she  marry  him  ?" 

*'  Mr.  Lea,"  answered  her  brother,  drily,  "  is 
worth  1200/.  per  annum." 

"  And  was  that  the  best  reason  she  had  for  accept- 
ing him?" 

"  Draw  your  own  inferences  from  what  you  have 
heard,"  replied  he  ;  and  turning  away,  he  walked 
up  to  another  party. 

To  Clarentine's  infinite  joy.  Miss  Barclay  rejoined 
them  no  more  till  Mrs.  Denbigh's  game  broke  up, 
and  Somerset's  carriage,  in  which  they  were  to  re- 
turn, was  announced. 

In  their  way  to  the  outward  room,  whilst  Mrs. 
Denbigh  stopped  a  few  minutes  to  take  leave  of  some 
ladies  of  her  acquaintance,  Clarentine  again  perceiv- 
ed Mrs.  Lea  seated  near  the  place  where  they  were 
standing  :  she  purposely  avoided  looking  towards  her, 
but  hearing  her  own  name  mentioned,  could  not,  with 
equal  forbearance,  resist  giving  some  attention  to 
what  was  passing. 

The  person  to  whom  she  was  speaking  was  a  young 
man,  who  with  his  eyes  fixed  upon  Clarentine,  seem- 
ed to  have  been  earnestly  enquiring  who  she  was—— 


23S 

*'  Whatever  she  is  now  matters  very  little,"  an- 
swered Mrs.  Lea,  in  a  half  whisper,  "  since  her  rank 
and  situation  will  in  a  few  days  be  entirely  changed." 

"  Is  she,  then,  going  to  be  married  ?" 

"  Yes  ;  she  forms  a  brilliant  connexion  with  a  man 
of  large  fortune,  whom,  after  using  extremely  ill  for 
many  months,  she  at  length,  in  the  failure  of  two 
others,  (a  young  Fa  onet,  and  the  nephew  of  an  Earl,) 
condescends  to  accept." 

"  She's  a  beautiful  creature." 

"  Yes,  a  pretty  sort  of  a  girl,  somewhat  haughty 
and  vain,  howev^er,  but  you  animals  contribute  to 
spoil  all  these  rural  beauties  by  your  unbounded  flat- 
tery ;  they  are  not  used  to  such  fine  things,  poor 
souls,  when  they  first  creep  out  of  their  caves,  and  if 
you  had  any  mercy  you  would  moderate  the  doses  a 
little,  and  be  content  to  turn  their  heads  by  degrees, 
rather  than  set  them  a  spinning  all  at  once  !  As  for 
little  Delmington,  her  hopes  were  raised  so  high 
when  she  first  left  her  native  wilds,  that  it's  ten  to 
one  if  she  does  not  actually  give  herself  great  credit 
for  having  had  the  humility  to  stoop  to  any  thing  un- 
der a  Duchess's  title  !  These  misses  all  come  flocking 
lip  to  town  with  Lady  Coventry's  success  in  their 
heads,  and  while  their  milkmaid-bloom  lasts,  feel  so 
secure  of  triumph,  that  they  neglect  or  mismanage, 
the  first  three  months,  more  splendid  opportunities 
than  they  ever  obtained  afterwards  with  the  best  laid 
plans  in  the  world." 

"  Who  is  it  she  marries  ?'» 

"  Do  you  know  Captain  Somerset?" 

«'  No." 

"  That's  him  standing  yonder  with  Mr.  Manners 
— He's  what  grave  and  sage  people  call  a  worthy  good 
creature,  and  what  I  call  a  fine  young  man,  very  ea- 
sy to  be  duped,  however,  very  credulous,  and  very 
unsuspicious." 


239 

"  Is  that,"  said  Mrs.  Lea's  friend,  with  a  signifi- 
cant smile,  "  what  the  lady  particularly  requires  ?" 

"  Exactly,**  answered  she. 

Though  Clarcntine,  it  will  easily  be  supposed,  lost 
many  sentences  of  this  charitable  dialogue,  she  yet 
heard  enough  to  tinge  her  cheeks  with  the  deepest 
crimson,  and  to  irritate  her  so  extremely,  that  dis- 
daining herself  for  having  listened  to  so  much,  she 
now  moved  abruptly  towards  the  door,  and  waited 
there  alone  till  Mrs.  Denbigh  and  Miss  Barclay  were 
ready  to  follow  her. 

During  their  ride  home,  Mrs.  Denbigh,  being  fa- 
tigued, and  Clarentine  indignantly  meditating  upon 
what  she  had  heard.  Miss  Barclay  engrossed  the  con- 
versation almost  exclusively. 

"  Well,  I  declare,''  cried  she,  after  they  had  pro- 
ceeded some  way,  "  if  an  angel  from  Heaven  had 
come  down  a  few  weeks  ago  and  told  me  Mrs.  Hert- 
ford could  ever  have  behaved  to  me  as  she  did  this 
evening,  could  ever  have  married  such  a  sneaking, 
mean,  disagreeable  looking  wretch  as  that  nasty  little 
Mr.  Lea,  I  should  not  have  believed  it!  She  used  to 
take  such  pains  to  persuade  me  of  her  love  for  some- 
body else,  used  to  talk  so  disinterestedly  about  it, 
make  such  fine  parading  professions  of  regard  forme 
— and  then,  all  at  once,  to  accept  such  an  object  mere- 
ly for  his  money  ;  look  at  me  as  if  she  had  never 
seen  me  before,  and  treat  me  with  such  pride  and 
negligence !  To  be  sure  it's  a  good  lesson — and  if 
ever  in  future  I  trust  quite  so  much  to  people  that 
spenk  me  so  fair,  I  shall  wonder!" 

^'  1  am  amazed  to  hear  you  talk  of  her  thus,"  cri- 
ed Mrs.  Denbigh  ;  '*  I  saw  you  sitting  together  and 
apparently  conversing  so  amicably,  that  I  concluded 
ycu  were  upon  the  best  terms  imaginable.** 

"  No  such  thing,  though  I  can  assure  you,  she  was 
cunning  enough  to  get  me  to  return  to  her  every  one 


240 

©f  her  letters  before  she  went  to  Bath ;  and  so  as  she 
has  now  lost  all  fear  of  me,  and  I  never  had  any  rea- 
son to  fear  her,  we  spoke  out  to  one  another  pretty- 
plainly  !  You  may  believe  me  or  not  as  you  will,  but 
this  I  am  sure  of — she's  a  bad  woman,  and  as  artful 
and  sly  as  a  serpent !" 

As  neither  Mrs.  Denbigh  nor  Clarentine  chose  to 
undertake  her  defence.  Miss  Barclay,  exulting  in  the 
persuasion  that  she  had  carried  conviction  to  their 
minds,  and  been  the  first  to  stagger  their  good  opi- 
nion of  Mrs.  Lea,  went  on  in  the  same  strain  with 
such  perfect  self-complacency  till  the  carriage  stop- 
ped, that  short  as  the  ride  had  appeared  to  her  whilst 
thus  employed,  she  could  scarcely  believe  the  coach- 
man had  driven  to  the  right  house. 


CHAPTER  XXIX. 


THE  following  day,  which  was  now  the  only  one 
that  remain-  d  previous  to  the  most  important  one  of 
Clarentint's  life,  Somerset,  who  spent  the  greatest 
part  of  it  at  Mr.  Lenham's,  being  alone  with  her  to- 
wards the  evening,  said — 

"  My  Clarentine,  I  have  been  reflecting  with  re- 
gret upon  the  difficulties,  which,  at  the  distance  that 
separates  us,  will  prevent  our  seeing  your  beloved 
Madame  d' Arzele  as  often  as  I  know  you  would  wish: 
can  we  fix  upon  no  plan  that  might  surmount  these 
obstacles?  would  it  be  impossible  to  induce  her  to 
choose  some  habitation  nearer  to  our  own  neighbour- 
hood?" 


241 

"  Attached  as  she  is,"  answered  Clarentine,  «'  to 
her  present  cheerful,  yet  quiet  little  mansion,  I 
should  think  it  almost  cruel,  great  as  would  be  the 
happiness  I  should  derive  from  her  society,  to  draw 
her  from  it,  unless  I  knew  of  any  other  we  could  re- 
commend as  an  equivalent  for  the  one  she  would 
quit." 

"  I  confess,"  resumed  Somerset,  "  that  at  this  mo- 
ment I  know  of  none  such;  but  a  very  short  time 
might  enable  me,  with  diligence  and  activity,  to  dis- 
cover one  the  very  counterpart  of  that  she  now  resides 
in :  at  all  events,  we  could  with  ease  prevail  upon 
her  to  spend  a  few  months  in  town  every  year,  by 
means  of  making  a  proportionate  addition  to  the  little 
income  my  generous  Clarentine  has  hitherto  spared 
her,  and  which,  after  this  day,  she  will  have  invested 
me  with  the  right  of  increasing." 

"  Dear  and  noble  Somerset  !"  cried  Clarentine, 
holding  out  to  him  her  hand,  the  tears  starting  into 
her  eyes — "  Who  half  so  generous,  so  considerate 
as  yourself!  We  will  discuss  this  subject,  however, 
just  now,  no  further :  I  owe  so  much  already  to  your 
disinterested  liberality,  that  I  cannot  bear  at  present 
any  additional  weight  of  obligation.  When  Lord 
Welwyn  comes  to  town,  talk  the  matter  over  with 
him  :  it  is  right  that  before  we  attempt  to  remove 
from  him  such  a  neighbour  he  should  be  consulted  : 
if  he  approves  your  plan,  we  will  then  devise  toge- 
ther the  means  of  obtaining  her  sanction  to  it," 

Somerset,  subscribing  unhesitatingly  to  this  deci- 
sion, now  started  a  different  topic,  and  remained  with 
her  till  a  late  hour,  talking  over  a  variety  of  plans  re- 
lating to  their  future  way  of  life. 

In  addition  to  Mrs.  Denbigh,  whose  attendance 
Clarentine  herself  requested,  she  was  accompanied  to 
church  the  next  morning,  at  that  young  lady's  pres- 
sing solicitation,  by  Miss  Barclav.      Mr.  Manners 

Vol.  II.  X 


2A9 

gave  her  away,  and  the  ceremony  was  performed  by 
the  worthy  Mr.  Lenham  ;  after  which,  the  travelling 
chaise  that  had  waited  for  them  at  the  door  being  or- 
dered to  draw  up,  Somerset  handed  her  into  it,  and 
instantly  following  her,  they  set  out  immediately  for 
Northamptonshire. 

On  the  ensuing  Tuesday,  without  waiting  for  a 
summons,  they  returned  to  town,  and,  driving  post, 
reached  Clifford-street  before  the  close  of  day.  Cla- 
rentine,  without  loss  of  time,  despatched  a  note  to 
Sophia  at  Mrs.  Germaine's,  apprising  her  of  their 
arrival,  and  intreating  to  know  when  she  could  see 
her. 

The  servant  brought  her  back  the  following  an- 
swer : 

MRS.  SOMERSET. 

"  Come  to  me,  dearest  creature,  after  breakfast, 
to-morrow.  A  convenient  head-ach  will  keep  me 
at  home,  and  alone,  the  whole  morning,  as  Mrs.  Ger- 
maine  is  going  about  the  town  with  Lady  Julia  and 
Harriet  to  shew  sights,  and  Eltham  has  promised  to 
be  of  their  party.  They  know  nothing  of  your  re- 
turn, for  I  choose  to  have  you  entirely  to  myself  the 
first  three  hours,  and  the  expectation  of  seeing  you 
might  make  them  all  take  it  into  their  heads  to  stay 
at  home. 

"  I  write  this  in  horrid  haste  ;  just  escaped  from  ^ 
drawing-room  full  of  aunts  and  cousins,  who  have 
made  my  ears  ring  with  congratulations,  till  they 
have  almost  stunned  me.    Adieu,  dear  Clarentine, 

"S.  E." 

Somerset,  to  whom  Clarentine,  when  she  had  read 
it,  shewed  this  note,  smiled  as  he  gave  it  back  into 
her  hand,  and  said,  "  It  is  so  evident,  my  love,  your 


243 

pretty  friend  wishes  for  no  third  person  to  be  pre- 
sent on  your  first  meeting,  that  I  shall  defer  my  visit 
to  her  till  evening,  and  leave  you  to  make  your  om'u 
at  what  hour  suits  you  best  in  the  morning.  If  I 
endeavour,  however,  when  you  return,  to  draw  from 
you  the  secrets  of  so  mysterious  an  interview,  you 
must  not  be  surprised  :  husbands,  you  know,  are 
privileged  to  be  curious,  and  the  privacy  of  this 
appointment  is  such  as  to  excite  mtj  curiosity  very 
strongly." 

"  Are  you  aware,"  said  Clarentine,  with  equal 
gaiety,  "  that  by  thus  reminding  me  of  your  privi- 
leges you  put  me  upon  my  guard,  and  teach  me  the 
necessity  of  being  cautious  ?  Whatever  I  may  hear, 
I  shall  now  come  home  so  well  prepared  to  dissem- 
ble, that  all  your  interrogations  will  be  useless." 

At  one  o'clock  the  next  day  the  carriage  came  to 
the  door,  and  Clarentine  getting  into  it,  was  driven 
to  the  house  of  Mrs.  Germaine,  in  Portland  Place. 

She  was  shewn  up  stairs  on  her  arrival,  and  left  an 
instant  alone  in  a  dressing-room,  the  door  of  which, 
however,  was  the  next  moment  thrown  open,  and  So- 
phia, sparkling  with  joy  and  breathless  with  eager- 
ness flew  into  her  arms.  "  Who  shall  detain  me," 
cried  she,  "  when  such  a  friend  as  this  is  here  ?  They 
are  all  below  still,  my  Clarentine  ;  but  hearing  your 
carriage  stop,  before  the  servant  could  announce  you, 
I  rushed  from  them,  at  the  hazard  of  breaking  my 
neck,  to  see  and  to  embrace  you.  There — do  you 
hear  ?  Harriet  is  now  shrieking  after  me  !  begone, 
dear  girl,"  added  she,  speaking  from  the  landing 
place,  "  I  told  you  before  I  could  not  go  with  you  ; 
I  am  engaged — I  am  busy." 

Then  hastily  shutting  the  door,  and  fastening  the 
bolt,  she  returned  to  Clarentine,  and  drew  her  to- 
wards a  sofa,  upon  which  she  seated  herself  next 
her. 


244 

**  Since  you  are  thus  unwilling,  my  dear  Sophia," 
said  Clarentine,  apprehensively;  "that  our  confe- 
rence should  be  interrupted,  I  am  very  sorry  I  came 
so  early.  The  carriage  that  brought  me  will  infalli- 
bly betray  us,  for  I  gave  no  orders  that  it  should 
drive  off,  and  the  party  below  must  see  it  at  the 
door." 

"  O  no  ;  I  told  one  of  the  servants,  as  I  ran  through 
the  hall,  to  dismiss  it  directly :  besides,  Eltham  is 
gone  out  already,  and  he  would  have  been  the  only 
one  amongst  them  who  could  have  known  the  li- 
very." 

"  But  why  all  these  precautions,  Sophia  ?  Why  so 
much  secresy  ?  Have  we  any  thing  very  important 
to  discuss  ?" 

"  Perhaps  not ;  but  I  don't  choose  to  make  you  po- 
pular till  I  have  exhausted  all  my  store  of  family 
anecdotes.  I  am  my  own  mistress  now,  Clarentine, 
or  the  deuce  is  in  it !  and  as  long  as  I  can,  I  am  de- 
termined to  save  you  the  mortification  of  iDeing  pre- 
sented to  Mrs.  Germaine.  Oh,  she  is  the  most  wea- 
risome, insipid  person,  by  whom  the  world  was  ever 
surfeited  !  A  frolicking  Mrs.  Barclay  in  higher  life, 
without  half  her  vulgar  originality,  however,  and 
consequently  without  any  of  her  coarse  entertain- 
ment !  I  am  amazed  how  Lord  Welwyn  could  fix 
upon  such  a  woman  to  be  the  guide  of  Lady  Julia.  She 
will  racket  the  poor  girl  into  a  consumption  in  less 
than  a- month,  if  she  goes  on  as  she  has  begun." 

"  Have  you,  then,  had  time  to  go  out  much  al- 
ready ?" 

"  O  yes  ;  we  only  arrived  yesterday  morning,  and 
she  dragged  us,  two  hours  afterwards,  to  a  thousand 
different  shops  ;  made  a  large  party  for  the  evening 
of  her's  and  Eltham's  relations;  proposed  this  pretty 
expedition  for  to-day  ;  and  takes  us  all  out  to  dinner, 
and  then  to  tea  and  cards,  to-morrow." 


245 

"Is  this  perturbed  lady  very  young  ?" 

"  No  ;  an  emaciated,  antique  skeleton,  worn  out 
with  dissipation  and  late  hours  !" 

"  Dearest  girl,  what  a  comfortless  house  for  you 
to  reside  in  !     How  long  shall  you  be  here  ?'' 

"  O,  as  short  a  time  as  possible,  be  assured.  EI- 
tham  has  no  great  veneration  for  his  amiable  aunt 
any  more  than  myself,  and  therefore  I  hope  we  shall 
get  out  of  town  by  the  latter  end  of  May." 

"Alas!  poor  Sophia!  Are  you  then  to  remain 
with  her  near  three  months  T' 

"  Indeed  I  fear  so  ;  and,  what  is  worse,  in  those 
three  months  she  v/ill  have  given  me  such  a  thorough 
distaste  to  London,  that  I  f;;ar  I  never  shall  be  able 
to  endure  it  again  !" 

"  Perhaps,"  said  Clarentine,  smiling,  "  there  may 
be  no  harm  in  that :  you  had  at  one  time  formed 
such  high  expectations  of  it,  that,  had  they  been  all 
realised,  you  might  have  become  an  absolute  Lady 
Toivnley,^^ 

"  It  is  by  no  means  improbable,"  returned  So- 
phia, "  and  therefore  if  you  will  assist  me  with  a  few 
philosophical  arguments,  I  will  endeavour  to  rea- 
son myself  into  a  belief  that  my  being  consigned  to 
this  odious  old  f  utter er  is  a  very  fortunate  circum- 
stance." 

The  subject  was  then  changed,  and  Sophia,  with 
her  accustomed  animation  and  good  humour,  was 
beginning  to  ask  a  thousand  different  questions,  which 
she  scarcely  gave  Clarentine  time  to  answer,  when 
hearing  a  quick  step  upon  the  stairs,  she  hastily  said, 
with  a  look  of  vexation  — 

"  What  now,  I  wonder,  will  those  creatures  linger 
at  home  all  day  ?" 

As  she  spoke,  some  one  from  Avithout  attempting 
to  turn  the  lock,  but  finding  it  fastened,  called  out 
in  a  voice  which  thev  instantly  knew  to  be  that  of 
X2 


246 

Eltham — "Sophia,  will    you   not    give    me    admit- 
tance ?" 

"Yes;*'  answered  she,  moving  towards  the  door 
— "  but  M'ho  have  you  with  you  ?  Are  the  ladies 
gone  r" 

"  They  are  ;  and  I  am  come  to  know  why  you  did 
not  accompany  them  :  pray  don't  keep  me  standing 
here." 

"No,  no  ;  let  him  in  for  Heaven  sake  ?"  cried  Cla- 
rentine,  earnestly. 

Sophia  laughed,  and  in  a  low  voice,  said,  "  will  you 
be  very  civil  to  him  if  he  comes  in  r" 

"  Yes,  certainly  :" 

"  And  will  you,  Eltham,"  resumed  she,  speaking 
louder,  "  be  very  civil  to  my  companion  if  I  allow 
you  to  join  us  ?" 

"  Your  companion  ! — Are  you  not  alone  then  ?" 

"  No ;  I  have  an  exceeding  pretty  little  French 
milliner  shut  np  with  me.  Shall  you  like  to  see 
her  ?" 

"Yes,  yes  ;  pretty  or  not  pretty,  open  the  door  be- 
fore I  lose  all  patience." 

Sophia  did  so  ;  and  Eltham  hastily  entered,  saying, 
"  what  ridiculous  fabrication" — but  starting  at  sight 
of  Clarentine,  he  stopped  short,  and  bowing  to  her 
with  an  air  of  mingled  gravity  and  surprise,  "  I  beg 
your  pardon.  Madam,"  cried  he,  "  I  knew  not  that 
you  were  here." 

"  Nor  did  I  intend,"  said  Sophia,  "you  should 
know  it ;  I  had  a  great  many  things  to  talk  ox'er  with 
her,  and  meant  to  have  excluded  all  intruders  the 
whole  morning :  since  you  have  seen  her,  however, 
I  insist  upon  it,  Eltham,  that  you  once  for  all  throw 
aside  those  j)etrifyii^.g  formal  looks,  and  speak  to  her 
with  the  freedom  and  cheerfulness  of  an  old  acquaint- 
ance. There,  go,  and  wish  her  joy  on  her  marriage, 
and  beg  her  to  return  the  compliment." 

Eltham,   who    could  not  forbear  laughing,  com- 


247 

plied,  however,  with  the  best  grace  he  was  able, 
and  takhig  Clarentine's  hand,  which  he  bowed  upon 
as  he  spoke,  paid  his  compliments  to  her  in  terms 
equally  unaffected  and  well-bred. 

*^This  is  as  it  should  be,"  cried  Sophia,  who, 
with  looks  of  pleasure,  had  attended  to  the  little  ce- 
remony. "  You  have  acquitted  yourself  perfectly 
well,  Eltham,  and  I  now  give  you  notice  that  whilst 
we  are  in  town,  this  dear  creature,  as  often  as  I  can 
prevail  upon  her  to  let  it  be  so,  is  to  make  one  in  all 
our  parties,  and  to  live  with  us  as  much  as  it  is  in 
her  power.  It  was  highly  necessary,  therefore,  you 
will  allow,  that  all  your  sour  faces  should  disappear, 
and  that,  cordially  and  sincerely,  you  should  shake 
hands,  and  determine  to  meet  as  friends.  You  know 
the  old  ballad,  Eltham? 

•*  Tom  loved  Mary  passinjj  \vell, 
"  But  Mary  she  loved  Harry." 

Remember,  however,  that  in  future  you  are  to  love 
no  other  Mary  than  me  ;  though  you  are  to  be  civil 
to  them  all.     Ay,  and  to  the  Harrys  too  ?" 

Then  bringing  to  him  his  hat,  which,  on  his  en- 
trance, he  had  thrown  upon  a  table,  she  put  it  into 
his  hand,  and  gently  pushing  him  towards  the  door, 
added,  "  Now  make  us  one  of  your  •  best  bows, 
good  friend,  and  don't  let  me  see  you  again  till 
dinner." 

"  1  will  go,  I  think,"  said  Eltham,  laughing,  "  and 
pour  my  complaints  into  the  sympathising  ears  of 
Captain  Somerset,  from  whom,  since  1  presume  he 
is  no  better  treated  than  myself,  I  have  not  any  doubt 
of  obtaining  the  utmost  commiseration.  Shall  I," 
continued  he,  addressing  Clarentine,  "  have  any 
chance  of  finding  him  at  home  this  morning?" 

"  I  left  him  there,  Sir,"  answered  she,  "  when  I 
came  out." 


248 

"  Don't  you  mean,  then,"  said  Sophia,  "  to  keep 
your   appointment  with   Mrs.  Germaine  and  Lady 


?" 


Juli 

"  No,  your  brother  is  gone  with  them,  and  there- 
fore I  reserve  myself  for  some  other  occasion."  He 
then  bade  them  good  morning,  and  left  the  room. 

Clarentine,  who  could  not  but  applaud  the  part 
her  rattling  but  sensible  little  friend  had  acted,  and 
who  sincerely  rejoiced  in  the  certainty  she  now  had 
of  being  henceforward  always  treated  by  Eltham 
with  friendly  unreserve,  staid  with  her  till  the  return 
of  Mrs.  Gerfnaine  and  her  young  companions. 

The  delight  with  which  she  was  met  by  Lady  Ju- 
lia was  evident  and  flattering,  and  the  warm  attach- 
ment which  had  subsisted  between  them  she  saw 
with  gratitude  remained  unaltered  and  undiminished. 
As  for  Harriet,  incapable  of  experiencing  any  strong 
affection,  she  made  no  attempt  to  evince  greater  plea- 
sure than  she  felt,  but  accosted  her  with  unmeaning 
kindness,  and  congratulated  her  with  tranquil  civi- 
lity. 

From  this  period  to  that  of  their  leaving  town,  the 
day  seldom  passed  in  the  course  of  which  these  long- 
tried  and  mutual  friends  did  not  meet.  Somerset, 
as  an  additional  gratification  to  his  lovely  bride, 
sought  by  every  means  in  his  power  to  draw  Madame 
d'Arzele  a  fev/  weeks  from  her  solitude  to  join  their 
happy  circle,  but  his  endeavours  were  vain  :  devoted 
to  her  children,  and  thankfully  content  with  her  peace- 
ful residence,  no  solicitations  could  succeed  in  de- 
taching her  from  either  even  for  an  hour,  or  in  de- 
termining her  to  accept  any  increase  to  the  annual 
hundred  pounds  she  still  continued  to  receive  from 
the  hand  of  her  niece. 

Of  the  Barclays,  during  the  spring,  Clarentine  saw 
little.  The  mother,  less  ambitious  of  mixing  with 
the  cultivated  and  the  elegant,  than  of  keeping  up 


249 

her  intercourse  with  the  jolly  associates  of  her  accus- 
tomed amusements,  made  no  efforts  to  force  herself 
into  their  parties  ;  and  the  daughter  receiving  from 
most  of  them  a  reception  which  might  almost  be 
termed  repulsive,  after  the  first  two  or  three  unsuc- 
cessful experiments,  renounced  the  attempt,  and  re- 
signed herself  again  to  her  former  intimates. 

With  regard  to  Mrs.  Denbigh,  however,  and  Mr. 
I.enham,  the  case,  it  will  be  believed,  was  widely 
different.  Revered  and  beloved,  not  only  by  Claren- 
tine  and  Somerset  themselves^  but  by  every  friend 
within  the  circle  of  their  acquaintance,  they  were 
received  with  delight  whenever  they  appeared,  and 
visited  with  respect  by  all  whom  they  would  admit. 

In  the  disappointment  of  the  sole  view  which  had 
induced  her  to  form  so  precipitate  an  engagement, 
the  interested  and  artificial  Mrs.  Lea  found  the  pun- 
ishment of  her  unprincipled  conduct.  Irritated  by 
her  neglect,  and  too  well  convinced  of  the  sordid 
motives  to  which  he  owed  her  hand,  her  husband, 
cancelling  a  will  he  had  made  in  her  favour  soon 
after  their  marriage,  drew  up  another  unknown  to 
her,  in  which  he  left  her  a  bare  subsistence,  and  con- 
signed the  bulk  of  his  fortune  to  a  distant  branch 
of  his  family.  This  change  effected,  he  supported 
with  her  a  wretched  existence  about  three  years,  and 
then  by  his  death  reducing  her  to  the  same  state  of 
indigence  he  had  drawn  her  from,  she  was  compelled 
once  again  to  seek  an  asylum  abroad,  where  neglect- 
ed, soured,  and  repining,  she  spent  the  remainder  of 
her  days. 

Lady  Delmington,  in  the  prosperity,  good  conduct 
and  happiness  of  her  children,  found  the  reward  of 
all  her  maternal  solicitude.  Sir  Edgar,  restored  to 
himself  and  to  his  friends,  became  the  ornament  and 
honour  of  his  family,  fulfilled  all  the  hopes  his  early 
acquirements  had  promised  ;   and  in  his  mild  and 


interesting  partner  found  a  companioff^vhose  faithful 
tenderness  conciliated  and  secured  all  his  own. 

Playful  yet  affectionate,  Sophia,  by  the  excellence 
of  her  temper,  and  the  sprightliness  of  her  conversa- 
tion, preserved  the  influence  her  good  humour  and 
her  frankness  first  gained  her  over  Elthara's  heart. 
Both  thoughtless,  but  both  generous  and  well-inten- 
tioned, their  attachment  was  permanent  and  sincere, 
and  their  happiness  seldom  ruffled  by  any  storm  this 
attachment,  and  their  mutual  gaiety,  did  not  dissipate 
the  next  hour. 

Of  Clarentine  and  the  long-chosen  owner  of  her 
heart,  blessed  with  domestic  felicity  and  possessing 
minds  that  taught  them  how  to  prize  it,  nothing  fur- 
ther can  be  added,  than  that  their  lives  were  as  ho- 
nourable as  their  names  were  respected. 


i  HK  END, 


:^ 


